


Let Your Heart Decide

by PumpkinLily



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s Era Queen (Band), Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Complicated Relationships, Developing Relationship, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Questioning, Questioning of Sexuality, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Smut, froger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinLily/pseuds/PumpkinLily
Summary: Confidence can hide fear and insecurities. Freddie has a part of himself he's been trying to mask, struggling to accept for years. No one must know, not even Roger.Roger has never doubted his heterosexuality, and Freddie is his best friend. But confidence can make way for uncertainties and questions about the way one views boys.Late February 1975, during the Sheer Heart Attack tour in the USA, is when things start to change.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Comments: 66
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi to everyone who's reading this! I hope you're doing well in these strange times ❤
> 
> This a story I've been wanting to write for a long time now. I mean, I had started to write a story last year, Some Things Are Hard To Tell, that covered a bit of the subjects I wanted to talk about. But I realised I wanted to make things "bigger" and "better".
> 
> I wanted to write about Freddie, his struggles about his sexuality, his longing to love and be loved. I wanted to write Roger's side, explore his thoughts and his struggles too. I wanted to write Froger, explore their relationship. I've written about them a lot in short stories, but now I want to write and see them grow and evolve through an actual slow burn.
> 
> So after months of taking notes and trying to plan and prepare things, here is a first chapter. I have planned things, but not everything is set in stone, so I don't know how long this story will be, and I don't know where it'll bring me. But I hope you'll enjoy this story nonetheless 😊

“Time is ticking Roger. We’re not going to wait eternally for you to make your move.”

Roger kept his eyes on the little wooden rack, his brows frowned in concentration. He’d already spent a good fifteen minutes trying to make words combinations, without success. Or maybe he’d found words but none of them could be placed around the letters he desperately needed. A tragic but recurring situation near the end of a Scrabble’s game.

“Roger?” Brian asked, since John’s words didn’t seem to make him act faster.

“My ears work, thank you.” He answered without looking up. “Now silence, I need to think.”

“You’ve been thinking for a while now. Maybe it’s time for you to accept you’ll get the last place?”

Roger glanced at John, sitting in front of him, flipped him off, and went back to his reflection. Freddie, sitting to his left, couldn’t help but smile.

That being said he hoped Roger wouldn’t take another fifteen minutes to find his word. He didn’t mind waiting, as Scrabble had to be one of the few activities where he could stay still for a long time without quickly getting bored, but he had an opportunity to make a nice score and place all his letters. The good spots on the board were severely low and he had such a great move planned, if Roger was to place his word _right there_ it would break his heart.

After a couple of hesitations, he sighed and placed his tiles on the board, a scowl on his face. Freddie could breath now. Many inner tears were shed over potential words destroyed by the placement of a single tile, but his own would see the light of day.

John raised his brows. “Impressive. It took you twenty minutes-”

“Fuck off.”

Roger searched for new letters in the small green bag and took the last free tiles. But it was over, Freddie could place his word. He’d been right on Brian’s heels for a few turns already, and he was going to use his own word to execute his master stroke. With his future score and the letters his friends would give him, maybe he’d even gain enough points to beat John, currently leading the game and looking at him with a smile.

“You seem particularly happy Fred. Relieved Roger didn’t take that triple word score?”

He wanted to answer “obviously darling” but couldn’t, his throat being raw as if he’d gulped sea urchins. A mere side effect of three weeks of concerts with three days of double concerts in nine days. So he scoffed and made a gesture with his hand; of course he was relieved Roger didn’t take his spot neither that precious triple word score tile. Who wouldn’t be?

“I would’ve taken it.”

“The contrary would’ve surprised me. You’re ruthless at Scrabble.” Brian commented, an amused smile on his face as he noted down the drummer’s meagre score. “Your turn Fred.”

Freddie placed the tiles, unable to hide a glowing smile, then turned over the empty rack. John whistled, and Roger let out a sound between a groan and a whimper, holding his head in his hands. Sweet, sweet victory.

“ _Wear_ with a triple word score, a double letter score and nine points from _spacer_ -” Brian raised his brows and handled his remaining letters. “Thirty-three points. Well done Fred.”

John did the same, and looked at the dejected drummer. “Rog, it’s okay, you’ll do better next time.”

He only got a grumble for an answer. Freddie, who also wanted to cheer Roger up, gently squeezed his knee, and he turned his head to meet his eyes.

“I hate you.” He muttered, his lips curled into a semblance of a smile.

Freddie let go of his knee and mimed a sad face, before smiling again and counting the rest of his points. It turned out he’d swiped a nice sum with all his three friends’ letters combined. Ultimately, it was a tie with John, but he was pretty happy with the outcome nonetheless. Roger, not so much.

“Well-” A yawn interrupted Brian’s words. “It’s been a nice game.”

John yawned as well, and Roger quickly gathered the tiles to put them back in the designated bag, eager to get his revenge. He wasn’t a sore loser, but of the four of them, he was the one who was able to swallow the defeat the least easily. And given the determined way he fixed Freddie, he expected him to be his opponent for the incoming rematch.

“As you wish, dear.” Freddie whispered with a smile.

He didn’t mind another game – which would probably turn into a series of two or three, depending on their motivation and how often Roger would lose. Scrabble really was the best activity they could enjoy right now. Watching TV didn’t interest him much and it wasn’t that late, so going to bed was out of the question.

The last days had been restless. A double concert in Philadelphia, the three specialists he’d had to see between yesterday and this morning for a diagnosis about his throat, the race to reach Washington in time for the evening show he absolutely wanting to sing for after that damn derailed train situation; resting and having a quiet evening was all he needed. As for going out, no fun in that when simply talking was painful.

He got up from the bed to stretch his legs and his back, feeling a bit stiff after sitting for so long. Brian and John got up as well, their look much less alert than Roger’s who had taken the guitarist’s spot on the bed. Now crossed-legged in front of Freddie, he waited for him to finish his little exercises.

“Good night dears.” Freddie whispered as their bandmates were about to leave the room.

Brian wished them a good night, followed by John who did likewise and informed Roger he’d pray so he’d have a better luck this time. Roger scoffed and retorted he needed quetzals, not prayers. Quetzals and all those letters worth four points and more.

John closed the door. The game could now start.

“Watch it Fred. You’ve had a hell of a luck but this time, I’m gonna win.” Roger proclaimed as he picked up letters from the bag.

Freddie smiled back. Roger was a good Scrabble player without a doubt, but he couldn’t predict the future.

They got so engrossed in the game that almost three hours later, they were still sitting around the board. Then again, the mere notion of time stopped existing when they played Scrabble. Only remained competitiveness, the never-ending fight to put as much points as possible between the two sides and brains running intensely to try finding the best way to get to those precious coloured tiles. Freddie had even forgotten about the miserable state of his throat.

That is, until a sneeze impossible to stop gave him the impression of having graters mincing the inside of it. A low pained sound escaped his mouth and he took his hand to his neck, wincing. It wasn’t as atrocious as this morning, but it still hurt a fucking lot.

“’You okay?” Roger asked, looking up from the board.

Freddie’s grimace got ugly. Did he look like he was okay?!

Roger then glanced at his side. “Pass me your glass.”

Freddie complied, and his friend got up from the bed. An expression of pain passed on his face as he de-crossed his legs, and he disappeared into the small bathroom. Freddie cracked his joints, equally starting to feel the effects of staying crossed-legged for so long, and waited for Roger to come back, without taking the opportunity to look at his letters of course. He was a fair player.

Granted, he’d done it once, but it was only once, and it was to see if he could look without getting busted.

He got busted. And he’d felt bad about it afterwards, so he didn’t intend on trying again. Especially not when his friend was being helpful right now.

After for a short moment, Roger reappeared with a full glass, and carefully handled it to him as he slowly sat down.

“Thank you.” Freddie said with the faintest voice before taking the glass.

“’S nothing.”

He slowly drank, letting the water ease a little bit of the pain, and put the glass back on the bedside table to focus on the game again. It was his turn to play; he’d noticed a few free tiles with nice bonuses on it, but he could do several words with his letters and they were all worth the same number of points, he didn’t know which one to choose. But he could also use that word Roger had placed the turn before and put it in the plural. Yes he’d gain less points with his own letters, but with the two words combined-

“You’re crazy, y’know.”

Freddie looked up at his friend, not really liking being pulled from his thoughts, but he couldn’t be mad before his smile and the fond look in his eyes. He raised a brow and straightened up. Which part of him or his great ideas did he approve of this time?

“You managed to pull off a great performance yesterday, despite having fucking nodes and singing your heart out twice at Philadelphia the day before.”

Freddie was split between pride and assuring his performance of the last days was nothing particularly crazy. Considering how long he’d started to sing on stage, Roger knew not giving his absolute best for a show simply wasn’t an option, throat problems or not.

“’Had no choice.” He whispered, his lips curling upwards.

“’Course we had a choice.” Roger argued, frowning. “Sure it would’ve been annoying to cancel the show on such short notice, but… C’mon, you can’t even talk!”

Freddie pondered for a moment, then shrugged. One less concert after such intense weeks probably wouldn’t have made a real difference. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to disappoint their fans, and nothing and nobody would’ve been able to stop him from singing last night. “You know me.”

Roger sighed, and smiled with affection. “Yeah. That’s why you’re crazy. But we’ll have to take better care of your voice in the future. ‘Pains me to see you like that.”

The concern in his words and his soft voice made Freddie feel warm inside. But then he laid his eyes on his friend’s hands, and his smile faltered. They were closed, but he could still picture the sores that had plagued them since they started the tour pretty well, and having to watch Roger endure the pain with a grimace was something he’d prefer not to experience again, if only in the near future. He knew it was normal – Roger himself had repeated it a few times already – but it didn’t make the sight of the cuts and the red stains on his skin more bearable.

“…Fred?”

Freddie reached out and gently turned over his friend’s hands, exposing his palms and fingers. The remnants of the blisters he’d suffered from recently were still visible. “We’ll have to take care of that too.” He whispered with a light smile while looking into his eyes.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m fine.” Roger assured, pulling his hands back from his hold.

He frowned. Of course that idiot would say he was fine. “Don’t be silly, I remember the bandages.” And the blood on the drumsticks, all around the drum kit. “You’ve suffered too.”

…This was why he preferred not to talk at all at the moment. Not because he sounded a bit like a reassuring mum – someone had to worry about him after all – but rather because it felt so strange having to whisper to talk without skinning his throat. As if he was under constant surveillance.

Roger looked away, a corner of his mouth turned downwards. “…Yeah, sure, but really, it’s fine now. My skin’s hardened and all. I’m ready for the rest of the tour.” He announced, a determined expression on his face.

Freddie smiled, and focused on the game again. His eyes scanned the board until the solution sparkled in his mind. _Right there-_ oh, Roger was going to curse him. But if he didn’t make a big step towards victory with that word…

He looked up, smirking. “I hope you’re ready to loose too.”

Roger scoffed. “I’m warning you, I’m not leaving this room until I win _at least_ once.”

**-***-**

Waking up to the sight of a plain ceiling and the top of blinds wasn’t horrible in itself. Waking up to the sight of a plain ceiling and the top of blinds with his eyes afflicted by the stinging sensation typical of too short nights was. Roger groaned and shut his eyes, not bothering to take a look at the alarm clock. He knew he hadn’t slept enough to make up for the ungodly hour he went to sleep to. For that matter, what time was it when-

Wait, Scrabble, Freddie-

He quickly turned around. There wasn’t much light but he still could see him, head turned in his direction, his dark hair sprawled all over the pillow. Still asleep, the lucky bastard.

Roger _had_ won eventually, he could’ve left the room without breaking his promise he’d committed to keep. But getting up from the bed and dragging his body to his own room on the opposite side of the hallway had required more energy than he could muster, after hours of Scrabble wars.

Instead of closing his eyes in the hopes of quickly getting back to sleep again, he kept watching his friend. His teeth poke out behind his parted lips; rare were the moments where Freddie didn’t try to hide them, even in presence of Brian, John and him only. Despite what he thought, his teeth weren’t ugly and Roger would deck anyone who’d mock him over that – or over anything for that matter. No one mocked Freddie and got away with it.

Eventually inspired by this peaceful sight and his soothing breaths, Roger closed his eyes. Sweet sleep, sweet warmth…

Until a knock on the door kicked him out of his drowsiness. He opened his eyes again and leaned forwards, squinting at the door. How much time had passed since he last awoke? And who the hell could-

Another knock, and he recognised John’s voice calling Freddie. Not now!

Roger mentally pleaded the bassist to shut up and leave him sleep in peace, and he would’ve stayed buried under the covers if Freddie hadn’t shifted a bit and mumbled something for a brief moment. Trying not to make the slats creak, he got out of the bed and quickly tip-toed to the door. On top of preventing him from getting back to sleep, letting anyone wake Freddie up was unacceptable.

Unlocking the door with concentration, he partially opened the door and the light coming from the hallway made him squint again. A part of John’s face appeared and it was more than enough considering he only wanted to go back to sleep.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Thrown off by his words for a second, John raised a brow. “Good morning too _Roger_.”

Roger would probably feel bad for his curt greeting if he had more hours of sleep on the clock. “’Morning Deaks.”

John moved to the right and made way for Brian, who looked surprised to see him. Or maybe he didn’t like the way he’d greeted John, but it wasn’t as if Roger cared at the moment. “Roger what-”

“Not so loud dammit!” He whispered before glancing at Freddie. In the darkness it was hard to notice if he’d moved, but it didn’t seem so. “Freddie’s still sleeping. And you woke me up!”

John reappeared. “Sorry.” He said without sincerity. “If you want to have breakfast-”

“No I don’t, I just wanna sleep. ‘Later guys.”

He closed the door without waiting for a potential remark and locked it as silently as possible. Brian and John would have their excuses later, he promised. He tip-toed back to the bed, and slipped under the covers with caution; waking Freddie up after doing everything he could not to prevent that would be a twist of fate he didn’t need.

A soft warmth enfolded him and a satisfied smile grew on his face.

Roger couldn’t say he was always happy with their management and their decisions, but right now he was glad they got to spend their week of rest in an hotel with good meals. Clearly superior compared to the ones from the Holidays Inns they’d stayed at. And there was so much they could do in New York! The city offered numerous places to visit, not to mention the shops and the clubs.

It was the least they could do, after how hard the four of them had worked on the tour. The enthusiast audience they’d been welcomed by at every city didn’t lie. The few technical difficulties they’d had here and there didn’t change the fact they’d made a bloody good start towards conquering the United States, one thing they’d dreamt of since last year. Having to stop for a week because Freddie had lost his voice was a drag.

It was a drag, but he blamed the rigorous touring schedule, not Freddie himself. Never. Freddie wouldn’t be their Freddie if he didn’t give his soul to singing at every of their shows.

“By the way, Roger?”

“Mmh?” He turned towards Brian, sitting to his left, a mixed salad in his plate. An actual mixed salad, not just a handful of leaves and two shabby slices of tomatoes like he was served most of the times.

“Why were you so crabby this morning?”

“I wasn’t crabby!”

John, sitting in front of the guitarist, raised a brow. “The first thing you told me was “what the fuck do you want”. If that’s not-”

“Well would _you_ be happy if when you went to bed at what, like four?”

He looked at Freddie to have confirmation, but he only shrugged before taking a spoonful of his soup. Poor him, having to eat soup. At least it didn’t look like a dish that came out of children’s nightmares.

“So let’s say four, and someone prevented you to get back to sleep by knocking at your door at eight? Didn’t you think it was way too soon?!”

John kept looking at him while cutting his veal, unblinking. “We came to check on Freddie around half-past ten.”

“Still! Way too soon!” And how dared John roll his eyes at him? Next time, he’d knock on his door at six.

“So it was Scrabble until four. Who won the most games?” Brian asked.

A proud smile grew on Roger’s face. “I did! I won two-”

A light tap on his hand got his attention, and he turned towards Freddie. He was smiling, but his hand and index waggling sought to correct him.

“Yes two, we played three rounds, and the second was a tie, it counts!”

“By your terms I’ve also won two games, dear.” Freddie whispered, frowning slightly.

Roger couldn’t really retort to that, unless he wanted to be hypocritical. “Fine. But next time!”

“Next time.” Freddie repeated with a determined smile, seemingly accepting to take up his challenge. Then his smile grew wide. “You’ll bite the dust.”

“I should’ve given you vodka.”

**-***-**

If having to whisper to talk without skinning his throat felt strange, it was also getting frustrating. Freddie knew there didn’t exist any miracle cure, that one day of rest and antibiotics wouldn’t be enough, but he just wanted to talk. Talk, sing, whistle. Mundane things, impossible to do with the miserable state of his throat. As for trying to communicate with whispers and gestures didn’t replace his voice, its importance, and he’d felt more and more left out from conversations in the course of the day. He knew it wasn’t voluntary from his bandmates’ part, but he figured it was easy to forget his presence when he had to stay quiet.

It wouldn’t last. It was draining nonetheless.

Maybe this was also why playing Scrabble with Roger until late into the night had been so nice. No need to talk to play Scrabble. But Roger was out tonight, partying into one of New York’s numerous clubs, and in the morning he might bring back a girl and a hangover – he wasn’t certain which one was more probable.

Of course, Freddie wasn’t going to prevent him from having fun. And after all, he hadn’t been completely alone, Brian and John had played Scrabble with him earlier. But they might give in to the lure of clubs soon enough.

At least he could write. Granted, testing the sonority of the words out loud with a melody was much easier than simply imagining them – even humming tended to be painful after a moment – but it was better than nothing. One day, some of his trials could turn into lines, verses, or even into full songs. Right now the focus was on the tour, but their fourth album already was in their mind. There remains much to be done; laying something on paper would do some good for their future baby and his state of mind.

Over his years of writing lyrics, Freddie had noted a myriad of words combinations, short sentences, scraps of music, of which most hadn’t found their place in a full song.

_Mama, just killed a man_

This line for example. He’d found it with his friend Chris when he was still a student at Ealing, years ago, and since then it’d been occupying a part of a page along with a few other lines he wasn’t even sure to want to keep. Looking deeper into it might be worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that weren't planned for this chapter :
> 
> 1- Posting it on the exact same date, one month after the first  
> 2 - The chapter being around 5k words  
> 3 - Spending the _entire_ night working on it  
> 4 - Consequently writing a short sex scene in the middle of the night
> 
> A big thanks to Mixsie and quirkysubject for helping me planning out details and stuff. You're the best 💗
> 
> Anyway, have a good read! ❤

Days of rest, mugs of honeyed tea and antibiotics did their magic. It still hurt when Freddie tried to raise his voice too much, but at least now he could talk without skinning his throat again and it deserved to be celebrated by a night out with the rest of the band. Besides, he couldn’t leave New York without partying at least one last time in a club. Not that he wouldn’t have other opportunities to do so – the tour was only supposed to end on the 7th of April – but most of the best clubs were here.

After evenings locked inside his room, it was almost as if he rediscovered life. The heat of the crowd constantly in motion, the loud thumping of rhythmic music, even the lingering odour of sweat had its own kind of appeal.

At the pace of the songs and wild flashing lights, Brian, John and Roger were carried away by the flow, leaving Freddie alone among his fleeting dance floor neighbours; some looked and smiled in his direction, but nobody approached him and it suited him well. He’d receive enough attention once the tour would resume.

Dancing to his heart meant thirst came quickly. He had to push a few shoulders to get close enough to the counter, but managed to find a free spot at the far end of the bar. After days of alcohol abstinence to take care of his throat, a Vodka Tonic would be very appreciated. One drink wouldn’t hurt too bad, right?

Just as he had received his drink, someone tapped his arm. A young man with a blue chequered shirt standing right next to him, with scruffy light brown hair, clear eyes and a large smile.

“Hi!”

They were practically sandwiched between other people, but Freddie didn’t mind the proximity. What worried him was that there was no way he’d make himself heard without hurting his throat.

“Hi.” It was brief, but he felt his throat burn. He kept his smile, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to speak so loud for very long. “How ‘bout we move?”

The young man agreed, and they made their way towards a quieter spot. Not exactly easy to find in a club, but eventually Freddie unearthed them a small space in a remote corner, away from the speakers and the dance floor. The deafening music still could be heard, but the volume difference was notable. Hopefully talking wouldn’t be as painful now.

With no seats around, they both leant against the wall. A bit of light reached their spot but the visibility was still low, and there was no one else around them. Almost as if…

Freddie pushed away the intrusive thought and memories.

Ridiculous. It wasn’t as if they weren’t hiding. Certainly not to do anything other than talking.

“…You’re Freddie Mercury, right?”

His eyes focused on the young man again. His voice was warm and smooth, lower than what he would’ve expected but even with the lack of light, Freddie was certain he couldn’t be older than Roger. Incidentally, he also smelt of cigarettes.

“Oh no, I’ve been unmasked.” He replied with a smile, before taking a sip of his drink. Not enough alcohol in that to endanger his throat.

“’Was afraid I’d get the wrong person!” The fan confessed, a flash of his teeth appearing. “I’m Tommy. ‘Saw you guys at the Avery Fisher Hall. You were far out!”

“’Happy you enjoyed the show, dear.”

The thumping which resonated through the entire place faded away as Tommy started to gush about their music and every little thing he had liked about their show in the city. He had stars in his eyes anytime he exalted about Brian’s talent at guitar – hearing _Now I’m Here_ live had been mind-blowing – but Freddie also received compliments for his powerful voice and piano skills – he had fallen in love with _In The Lap of the Gods_ , which couldn’t please him more.

He felt like he could listen to him for hours, and not only because his voice was warm and pleasant. Seeing – or rather hearing in that case – their talent being recognised, their fans being so passionate about the liking of their music and concerts was worth more than any “professional” review.

“Y’know, I read what they said about your performance in the New York Times- “And yet it’s difficult to see why Queen deserves this fervour”! Can you believe it?!” Tommy gesticulated, motivated by this outrage and maybe alcohol too.

They had read it too, and none of them had been exactly pleased by that stupid statement. “We’re rather used to unflattering reviews. But our policy is to ignore what they say in the news.”

“Right on! They’re just full of shit!”

Tommy’s radiant grin was contagious, but Freddie covered his own behind his hand. The low light didn’t hide his teeth, and not everyone had a pretty smile.

A smoke, more words of appreciation for Brian and a round of drinks later, their conversation lead them on the dance floor. Not only could Freddie rest his throat, all he had to do was to let the music and the laid back but energetic ambiance guide him. And watch how Tommy’s mane of hair kept bouncing around as he wiggled without a care in the world, highlighted by red, white or green reflections under the spots flashing relentlessly.

The songs and the people circling them went by, but the young man stayed with him. One noticeable thing, aside from his hair, was his everlasting smile. It seemed to momentarily grow a bit more each time he laid his eyes on Freddie, and it never failed to poke his heart in a gentle and particular way.

 _So girls can get lost,_ a part of him sneered _,_ _but when a bloke turns up-_

He stayed focused on his smile, bright and endearing. Memories of conversations and encounters leading to fleeting touches, shared glances and kisses and strong hands holding him flashed in his mind. Sensations he sought, memories a side of him wished wouldn’t exist. The one that always reappeared in the end, no matter how much he tried to bury it deep.

…Was he reading too much into that, or-

A hand shaking his shoulder brought him back to the present moment. “I love this song!!” was screamed in his ear, and then Tommy was swaying wildly, as well as a number of swinging masses of hair around them.

The air was unknown to Freddie, but his legs started to follow the frenzied rhythm and the deafening music drowned out his thoughts for several wild minutes.

As the last notes of the song rang, Tommy finally slowed down, a happy, satisfied expression persisting through his now low energy level. It took Freddie a bit longer than usual to think about hiding his own smile as he shook the collar of his shirt.

Despite the suffocating heat, he felt a pleasant thrill as the young man leant towards him to make himself hear better.

“How ‘bout a drink? ’Feels like boiling in here!”

He nodded, and they slalomed between the party-goers to head towards the bar, packed as ever. Waiting for their drink took longer than emptying their glasses, and while Tommy went to the restrooms, Freddie slumped on one of the booth seats bordering the wall, feeling his body twice heavier after their dancing.

Alcohol and fatigue starting to act didn’t make him feel lighter, but leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. He wouldn’t mind enduring the soreness in his feet if Tommy offered to go back on the dance floor, though he would be happy to continue their discussion about Brian’s incredible work on _Sheer Heart Attack_.

Anything to stay longer with him.

His eyes wandered in the room, passing on the ever-changing silhouettes around him until his mind could picture Tommy’s body moving around like earlier. His look, his lingering smile. It _could_ be only his imagination – his desires – working, but…

Wouldn’t it be nice.

Right now, it didn’t feel like a bad thing to picture his scruffy hair, his hands resting on his waist, bringing him close until he could feel the heat of his torso, the softness of his lips-

“Hey.”

Lost in his thoughts, Freddie hadn’t noticed someone approaching him. A young woman with wavy blond hair, who had the same flirtatious expression he saw on his groupies’ faces. He greeted her with a smile, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Hey.”

She took the free spot besides him and flashed him a large smile, enhanced by shiny red lipstick. “How about we go dancing?”

 _No. Go away._ “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

He hoped it would discourage her, but she only straightened her back and tilted her head, eyelashes fluttering. As if her breasts and make-up could change his mind. “Aw, c’mon, I’m sure we could have fun together.”

It would be easy to say “yes”, join the people of the dance floor, exchange smiles and caresses until she’d make her way into his bed. He was so used to convince himself and everyone else it was the kind of intimate company he enjoyed.

But a part of him protested at the idea of ditching Tommy for another night with a girl to keep up appearances, and soothe that side of him he didn’t want to listen to right now.

“…No, seriously, I’m not looking for anyone right now.” He glanced behind her, trying to spot him. “I’m just waiting for a friend.”

The coloured lights weren’t necessarily making the task easy for him, but Freddie caught a glimpse of his mane of hair as he was trying to make his way through the crowd. A movement brought his attention back to the young woman, who had shifted closer to him, before his eyes darted in Tommy’s direction. He couldn’t see him anymore.

While he pleaded for him to arrive fast, he felt a light pressure on his hand; thin fingers were curled around the back. Freddie tensed, wanting to get away but feeling trapped by the young woman’s expectant look and smile.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone standing near the edge of the booth seat, and recognized Tommy’s chequered shirt. He slightly turned his head, and their looks met; he saw the hesitation on whether or not to interrupt the moment on his face, the questions he seemed to ask silently. Or maybe it was only his own mind making things up?

_Stay with me._

Freddie muttered a word of goodbye as he removed his hand from the young woman’s grip and got up.

There’d be plenty of “her”. Not enough “Tommy”.

His mind got lost in a pleasant haze after that. Another moment on the dance floor, another drink, another talk during which he had trouble really listening – more keen on letting his mind wander in certain places, like Tommy’s pants – during which the suffocating heat, the thumping, the growing effects of alcohol and fatigue seemed non-existent. When the young man asked if everything was okay, he assured he was fine, and when he replied he looked a bit done in, he confessed all he wanted was to stay with him. It was just a fact.

Deep down inside, the idea of spending the night together was there, but rather than asking him outright, he was more or less unconsciously waiting for Tommy to decide if one thing meant the other.

Hoping, more than waiting for that matter. When the young man said he was getting tired and asked if they could leave, Freddie quickly lead them outside, driven by an unusual self-confidence. The one he didn’t have when it came to going over the bounds of simple friendship with men.

Only when they put a foot outside and the cold air felt like a slap, he sobered up and realised how the night would evolve.

“’Fucking freezing.” Tommy grumbled while he adjusted his leather bomber jacket.

Unease started to creep in. He still wanted to spend the night with him – despite that side of him that insisted they should say their goodbyes and part ways – but he had never brought men to his hotel room before, for many reasons. He had no idea of the time, but even if it was pretty late someone could-

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he turned around. With the light provided by a nearby street lamp, he could finally see the true colour of Tommy’s eyes, a soft mix of grey and blue.

“We move?” The young man asked with a light smile before lighting up a cig.

“…Right.”

Without another word, they started to walk back towards the hotel, sinking into the street, well-lit and rather calm, though quietness was relative in a city where the streets always seemed bustling with activity. The occasional scraping of sneakers on the concrete next to the regular clack of Freddie’s platform boots gave their walking its tempo. Despite the late hour – or rather early hour – they passed a certain number of people; he couldn’t wait until they’d be in his room, away from everyone.

The groupies’ attention had become more annoying and tiring than anything recently, and the last time he had slipped away with a man went back to several weeks, before they arrived in the United States. He was glad to have met Tommy. But along with the excitement already building inside him, there was also that feeling of anxiety he couldn’t shake off.

No, not anxiety. He knew what it was. A feeling of shame, more or less dormant until anything linked with his… inclination for men woke it up and cast a shadow over his mind.

He thought about Tommy’s smile again. Bright, unashamed. How did he do-

“Freddie?”

His warm voice drifted him from his thoughts. He stopped walking and looked at the young man, and recognised a touch of concern in his clear eyes.

“Everything‘s okay?”

Was it that obvious something was troubling him?

“I…” Freddie tried to clear his mind and pull himself together. Now was _not_ the time to run away. “I mean…” He turned aside, wishing the knot forming in his stomach would disappear. “I don’t usually… Not with men.”

He felt ridiculous, but didn’t find the strength to raise his eyes. If Tommy had expected someone experienced, who knew what they were doing, he was in for disappointment. So much for his flamboyant rock star persona. It didn’t appear so far away anymore, the time where he was only a shy art student without a band but with a head full of dreams, incapable of facing the feelings boys caused to him.

He continued to fix the pavement, waiting with apprehension for a remark, a question. A started cig fell next to Tommy’s right shoe, promptly stubbed out in a swift motion.

The next moment, he found himself engulfed in a heartfelt embrace.

“S’ alright Freddie.” A low, reassuring voice tickled his ear as he looked up.

Freddie barely had the time to acknowledge the sudden warmth, the smell of cigarettes that he felt a light pressure at the corner of his mouth, just for a second, and a small sound of-

Tommy had just kissed him.

He leant back, showing him nothing but softness in his eyes and a gentle smile. His fingers lingered for a brief moment around his waist, then brushed against his arms to gently hold his hands.

A dash of red heated his cheeks. “Tommy-”

Before he could say anything else, the young man retrieved his hands, face a bit redder too. “Sorry- ‘couldn’t help it. ‘Thought it might make you feel better, y’know.”

Such a small yet daring gesture. Someone could’ve seen them. And yet, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his heart. Maybe a spontaneous gesture of affection was what he had needed after all.

His lips curled up into a smile. “…Thank you.”

Tommy grinned from ear to ear. “Anytime.” He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket, tugging it closer. “Now, ‘s not that I’m freezing my ass off, but…”

“…Well, c’mon then dear.”

Freddie gave him a double tap on his arm before doing likewise, and headed in the hotel’s direction. Tommy didn’t waste any time following him.

By the time they arrived in the lobby, he was buzzing with impatience. They hadn’t exchanged more than sideways glances and knowing smiles during their walking, and each of them made him want to end up in Tommy’s arms again a bit more. The embrace and kiss had been sweet but way too short.

He glanced at him as they were waiting for the lift in silence, and snorted when the young man mimed a kiss by puckering his lips. He responded by bringing his hand to his mouth and silently blowing him a kiss, which elicited a laugh and a pretty flash of his teeth.

That damn smile. Freddie didn’t want to stop looking at it, but at the same time, the things those lips could do to him if they were closer…

Eleven floors to go, and no one else in the lobby waiting for the lift. With a bit of luck…

He looked back at Tommy after stepping inside the lift and pressing the corresponding button. His smile was deliciously ravishing. So pretty, so far away from him.

He must have had the same idea; no sooner had the doors closed completely than a mutual step forwards lead them to fingers gripping each other’s waists and lips finally meeting in an eager, passionate kiss.

Warm hands found their way under his fur coat, pressing him further as their tongues swirled together. The heat, the faint taste of alcohol and the stronger presence of cigarettes, the feeling of Tommy’s crotch against his own- _so good,_ it had been way too long-

The lift stopped and they had to step away, trying to pretend they weren’t snogging a second before.

Fortunately, the hallway was completely empty, and so their eyes met again. In silence, Freddie took a few seconds to catch his breath, and watched Tommy do the same with satisfaction and fondness. The young man then slowly reduced the distance between them, laid a hand on his waist, another on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, feeling himself melt when he received a second kiss, much slower and softer.

The sound of the doors closing reminded them more suitable places to have an intimate moment existed; a quick push of the right button, and they got out of the lift.

“’A pain to be interrupted like that.” Tommy mumbled with a smile, his eyes not leaving Freddie.

“Well, I _might_ have a room somewhere down the hallway…” He pointed out, before getting closer and laying a hand on his hip. “Actually dear, I might even have a _bed_.” He added with a seductive smile.

Tommy raised a brow. “Really?” He passed a hand through the fur of his coat and slowly stroked his chest, pretending not to be impressed. “I don’t buy it. Show me.”

Freddie’s eyes darkened, and his hand slid along the jeans to curl around his buttock. “Oh trust me, I’ll show you more than that.”

Tommy responded with an eager smile and briefly passed his fingers against his crotch, an unmistakable twinkle of desire in his eyes. “’Cant wait.”

Freddie couldn’t wait either, and lead him down the silent hallway, staying in close contact the whole time. Tommy’s hand kept brushing against his own, sometimes getting a little adventurous and briefly caressing his bum, and for a short moment he was tempted to walk slower only to receive more of his touches. Of course, anything would be more enjoyable once they’d be inside his room, free to discard their clothes and restraint.

He let the young man step in first after unlocking his room, his heartbeat already a little faster. He hadn’t been this excited to spend the night with someone in a while.

Tommy looked around, a thinking expression on his face, before focusing on the large bed. “Oh, so you _do_ have a bed _.”_ He commented with a smile.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Freddie replied, his back half-turned as he closed the door behind him.

In the blink of an eye, a hand grabbed his sleeve and he was pulled forwards into a spontaneous embrace, so quickly he almost lost his balance. Suddenly there were arms around him, hands resting on his back, and the rest of the world faded out as he felt Tommy’s lips against his own again.

He grabbed his waist and pressed himself closer, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. Tommy had already taken off his jacket. Not that Freddie was particularly eager to keep his fur coat.

He let go of him to take it off, and involuntarily broke the kiss. His eyes met Tommy’s. The young man seemed thrown off for a second, but a smile grew on his face when he realised what Freddie wanted to do, and his hands joined his fingers, curled around the edges of his coat.

“Let me help you.”

Freddie was all too happy to, in fact, let him take care of the piece of clothing, dropped on a nearby furniture afterwards. As much as he loved his fur coat, it couldn’t replace the comforting weight and warmth of Tommy’s body against his own, of his hands resting on his waist.

“…I wouldn’t mind you helping me again, dear.” He confessed in a breath, a cheeky smile on his redden face.

Tommy raised a brow. “Really?” His fingers left their spot to join the waistband of his tight pants. “’Suppose you need a hand then?” He asked with a wry smile.

Freddie laid his hands on his’. “A very good hand actually.”

A corner of his mouth raised up, showing a large flash of his teeth. “I’d be happy to, Freddie.”

Their look still fixed in each other’, Freddie felt the young man’s hands move under his own, fidgeting with the button of his pants for a short moment before popping it open. The pressure of the zip disappeared shortly after, and Freddie closed his eyes as one of Tommy’s hands slid past his underwear to curl around his cock, eliciting a sharp breath. His other hand went to his hip and his thumb gently stroked circles.

“Freddie?”

One his hands moved around him, until he found Tommy’s chest under his fingertips, and he laid his hands on his waist, his fingers digging into the flesh after a rougher movement on his growing erection. “Y-Yeah?”

A warm breath tickled his neck, and lips brushed the corner of his jaw before pressing a kiss right below his ear.

“I want to fuck you.” Tommy confessed in a sensual voice.

Blood rushed down his crotch and Freddie let out a quiet, high-pitched moan as the young man continued to work and twist his fingers just the right way. He then started to slowly rub himself against the side of his thigh, and Freddie sighed in appreciation. Satin was a blessing in general, but it was second to none when it came to sharing the sensations of arousal.

“You’d like that?”

The playful words sent a tingle of pleasure down his spine. _Yes._ Anything his voice soft like honey would ask. Anything to feel more of his body’s heat, the caresses of his hands, his lips on his skin.

“Please, darling…”

Freddie let out another moan after a skilled motion of his fingers against the sensitive skin of his cock, and Tommy kissed him again. He returned the gesture, their tongues quickly meeting then swirling around each other.

The hand on his hip gently pulled him forwards, and he followed Tommy as he slowly guided him towards the bed. They discarded their shoes along the way, between two kisses and unhurried caresses. Piece by piece, the rest of their clothes followed – not without a few difficulties; they had trouble keeping their hands off each other. Freddie, most particularly, sought the touches of the young man, warm and electrifying, and reciprocated his gestures of affection with enthusiasm.

It just felt so good. It just felt right. He didn’t think he would care if, carried away by their desire and carelessness, they somehow missed the bed and felt comfortable enough on the floor to have sex there.

Luckily for them, their passionate moment ended on top of the bed’s soft covers. Tommy, lying above Freddie, decided to lean back, just enough to catch his breath and adjust his position. Freddie did the same, feeling a bit light-headed, but not only because he needed a minute without kissing him.

Along with the desire, there was a softness, such a fondness in the young man’s eyes at this moment – and of course, he couldn’t forget his smile, sweet and radiant – for _him_ alone, it was almost overwhelming. He continued to fix him silently, trying to etch this beautiful, precious instant in his memory, then brought his fingers to his cheek, gently stroking it.

“You have a lovely smile, darling.”

Tommy’s lips tensed for a second before curling up again, his face reddening a bit more. “Thank you.” He started to trace the outline of his collar bone with his finger. “…Freddie?”

Good thing he didn’t have to resist his voice calling his name, because he could never have. “Yes?”

“…D’you call everyone “darling”?”

He raised a brow. “Are you jealous?”

Tommy frowned slightly, but kept his smile. “No. ‘M just curious.”

“I do call most people this way, but…” He thought about it for a short moment. “Trust me, you really deserve it. You’ve been a delight, Tommy.”

Once again, the young man couldn’t stay indifferent to the compliment. “…Thank you.”

He then brushed Freddie’s hair aside to press his lips at the base of his neck. A sigh of satisfaction escaped his mouth, turning into a louder moan when he started to nipping his skin.

“Hey Fred-”

Freddie realised only now that in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t locked the door.

Roger was by the door, looking in their direction, eyes opened wide and cheeks reddening by the second. A deafening silence engulfed the room.

He froze on the spot. Maybe he should have yelled, tried to hide his nudity and his arousal, but blinking was all he could do.

“Um-”

“The fuck you’re looking at?!” Tommy groaned, looking furious and embarrassed.

Roger jumped, then glanced at the young man. “Sorry- I didn’t- I…” He closed his mouth, and quickly looked back at Freddie. “Good night.”

He left the room, and closed the door as carefully as possible. The weight of the situation fell hard on Freddie’s shoulders.

Roger had caught him with a bloke.

Dread formed in his stomach. He had tried so hard to pretend, to appear surrounded by girls, to act interested in them for years so nobody would know, only to fuck it up because he had forgotten to lock the fucking door-

Roger had caught him with a bloke. He had tried so hard to pretend for a reason.

The thought Roger could hate him made his blood curdle.

Dread turned into lead. _Roger wouldn’t._

 _Roger could._ _Your friendship might not_ _-_

“Freddie?”

A light hand on his shoulder snapped Freddie from his thoughts. Tommy had knelt next to him, showing him a small compassionate smile. But he was clearly sheepish, and barely dared to look at him. Maybe he thought what just happened was his fault; or maybe he was afraid Freddie would be mad at him.

“Sorry.”

Freddie was agitated, and a part of him he really didn’t need right now was nasty, but the anger and negative emotions and thoughts weighting on his mind were directed at himself. _He_ had decided to spend the night with someone without being careful enough. He could’ve been caught with any man. It would be his fault if tomorrow, Roger didn’t want to speak to him anymore. As painful as it would be.

“…Not your fault.” He assured in a faded voice, trying to return his smile.

Tommy seemed a bit less tensed. Only a little bit. “…Want me to leave?”

A part of Freddie wanted to say yes. Erase his presence, as if nothing had happened – but it was futile. And what was the point in hiding anything, now that Roger _knew?_

He was an idiot. Besides, Tommy was kind and had tried to help him, he didn’t deserve to be kicked out. He was of good company, and Freddie knew he better enjoyed it while he had some. And he didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts right now. He didn’t want to be left alone short.

“Don’t.” He whispered.

Gently, Tommy warped his arms around him, and Freddie let himself be brought close, feeling absolutely drained. He rested his chin on his shoulder and shyly hugged him back, enjoying the soothing warmth of his body and his hands slowly stroking his upper back. Having someone friendly to hold him like that was nice. A hug was a simple gesture, but he had really needed it.

“…That was Roger Taylor, right?”

“Yeah.”

After a moment, Tommy stopped stroking his back. “…I’ve had a fight with my best friend when he found out about me. Things got ugly.”

“Oh.” The thought saddened Freddie. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, but ‘doesn’t really matter anymore. Anyway, Roger didn’t look at you as if you were a freak. Or as if he wanted to smash your face. He might… might not be mad at you.”

 _That d_ _oesn’t_ _mean anythin_ _g_ , a part of Freddie replied. Another part wanted to retort Roger _had_ looked surprised. He hadn’t seen any disgust or scorn on his face, only embarrassment, like when they walked on each other having an intimate moment with a groupie.

But it wasn’t the same. None of them had ever been caught with a man. Until now.

Would Roger still see him the same way after that?

He could endure strangers’ sneers and nasty innuendos, try to ignore them as he had always done, but insults coming from his friend would crush his heart.

“Freddie?”

He shivered, and tightened his embrace around Tommy. “…I don’t want him to hate me.”

Tommy stayed silent, but Freddie didn’t expect an answer. Only the assurance Roger wouldn’t do so could ease his pain, and nobody could give it to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still fairly new to writing sex scenes, so if you have a thought about it, or about anything in the chapter really, don't hesitate to leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, finally. I'm back, after two months. As always juggling with school work and writing is never easy 😅
> 
> Once again, thanks to Mixsiee and quirkysubject for helping me with writing! 💗
> 
> ❤ Have a good read! ❤

Roger would’ve preferred not to be dozy to meet their manager this morning, but he wasn’t alone in the boat. John at least seemed relatively awake; as for Brian, he looked like he was going to fall asleep in his bowl of tea. It reminded him of those mornings where they had to give interviews while suffering a hangover. In any case, they clearly didn’t look their best when Jack presented them Steve, the one who would be their personal assistant for the rest of the tour. Not to mention Freddie wasn’t even here. But he was to blame for that; of course his friend wouldn’t be thrilled to face him after last night.

Fuck, he _really_ should've listened to Brian. Of all the times he decided to act before thinking…

But how could he have imagined that Freddie would forget to lock his door, especially when he was-

Roger stared at his coffee. Not that he was dying to drink it – though it might do him some good after his rather short night – but he really needed to focus on something, anything to make the _picture_ in his head disappear.

What picture? Only the dark and rich colour of the coffee was in his mind, along with a small mass of tiny bubbles in a lighter brown.

After wishing them to enjoy their last two days of rest, Jack left Steve in their company. Roger dared to raise his eyes, but he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy morning.

“…Did something particular happen?” Steve asked after a moment. “With Freddie, I mean.”

John cleared his throat and fixed Roger with insistence. He looked away when Brian found enough energy to do the same.

“Oh, nothing much.” He assured, trying to smile and think about the coffee. Where was the sugar? He couldn’t drink his coffee without sugar.

“Just Roger being too dumb and impulsive, without a doubt.”

The words annoyed him, but he knew he couldn’t really retort anything. Especially when his bandmates actually had no idea of what really happened with Freddie last night. Of how right they were.

Steve lightly frowned, intrigued. “…Is he mad at you?”

“’M sure he’s not.” Roger muttered, hoping in silence he wouldn’t ask more questions. “’S nothing anyway. We should go wake him up.”

“ _You_ should go wake him up.” John rectified.

“Why me?!” He protested, before looking at their new roadie. “I mean, it’d be an opportunity for Steve to meet him.”

John scoffed, a corner of his mouth raised. “Sure, but maybe you have a few things to make up for first?”

Roger sent the bassist a nasty look. He didn’t know how right he was, he couldn’t just say that!

Despite his lack of energy, Brian continued to fix him, indubitably thinking something along the lines of what was just suggested. Steve stayed silent, intrigued as ever, waiting for his reaction.

He eventually sighed, and his chair scraped the ground as he got up. “Fine.”

**-***-**

Freddie heard the knocks on the door, but didn’t move. He was so tired. It took him forever to fall asleep last night. Tommy’s presence may have been able to give him some comfort, but not a peaceful sleep. Not that he had expected to sleep well last night anyway.

The warm body next to him shifted a bit, then he heard a click coming from the bedside lamp.

“Freddie.” A voice called, before gently shaking his shoulder. “’Think someone’s waiting for you.”

Freddie didn’t want to see anyone. If the world could forget him for the morning, it’d be wonderful. Unfortunately, unplugging the phone hadn’t been enough. And as much as he only wished for the warmth and the safety of Tommy’s arms, he had to get up and face the day. Face Roger.

His stomach knotted just thinking about what happened.

It’d been humiliating. And now, he’d have to act as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn’t dreading what his friend could think about him. And he _knew_ Roger could keep secrets, but a part of him couldn’t help but imagine the worst; that he’d told Brian and John, that they’d be disgusted with him, that he’d have to face judgmental looks and remarks he never, ever wanted to receive from his dear friends and bandmates.

But Brian and John wouldn’t hate him for that either. _Right?_

And even if they… didn’t approve of his inclinations, they’d surely stay professional and not want to-

Someone knocked on the door again.

Freddie sighed, and slowly raised his head before opening his eyes. Tommy was looking at him with a smile, and a bit of concern in his soft clear eyes. He smiled back, although he didn’t have the heart to do so. That being said, he was grateful to wake up with him laying by his side, even if it was for today only.

Slowly, he sit up, and put on something to be presentable in front of whoever went to wake him up. _Please, anyone but Roger._

But of course, _of course_ , the blonde had to be the one behind his door. And he looked as unprepared as him to face each other.

If only he could go back to sleep and pretend it had never happened.

Roger stood up a bit straighter, and tried a smile. “…Hi Freddie.”

_C’mon, at least try too. Don’t make things worse._

“…Hi, Rog.” He replied with an awfully tense smile.

The knot in his stomach was back. Why couldn’t he simply vanish, or be swallowed by a black hole?

“Um, I… Jack dropped by earlier y’know, he presented Steve, our new PA; he’ll be with us for the rest of the tour.”

They’d been assigned someone who just wouldn’t stay with them for one or two shows? At least some good news. Hopefully this Steve wouldn’t be too nosy.

“And uh, he’s waiting with Deaky and Brian at the restaurant. So if you could…”

“Sure, let me just… see you downstairs.”

“Right.”

Freddie closed the door, and his tense smile fully turned into a grimace. He supposed it could’ve gone worst – he’d been able to conduct a conversation without stammering like a duffer – but the knot in his stomach didn’t want to go away. And the day was only starting.

“Everything’s okay?” Tommy asked, still sitting on the bed, near the bedside table.

Freddie sighed, and looked at him without trying to hide his pain. “…I’ve honestly been better, dear.”

The young man showed a sympathetic smile, and gave him a brief but welcomed hug. Freddie then quickly finished dressing up and combing his hair; him who usually loved taking time to make himself beautiful in the morning, he avoided the mirror. He was certain he looked awful. But with a bit of luck, his bandmates would also look like they needed another night of sleep.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Tommy got up and greeted him with another smile as he stepped out of the bathroom. Despite their shortened moment of passion together, Freddie felt grateful and very lucky to have met him.

“Thank you for staying Tommy. And… for everything, really.”

For giving him the type of affection he craved – even if a part of him didn’t want to accept it – along with some pleasant company for the night, warmth and comfort, and the pleasure of kissing and being intimate with someone, after all these evenings with girls he never really cared about. For not getting angry at his stupid, stupid oversight that had ruined their night, that might have cost him a lot.

“You’re welcome.” Tommy’s smile widened, and he gently warped his arms around him. “…When will you come back to New York?”

“Oh I’m afraid nothing’s planned for now, dear.” Freddie answered, enjoying the warmth of his arms for the last time. “Maybe if we do well enough, we’ll be offered to do another one…”

“Of course the rest of the tour will go well. You’re gonna rock.”

Tommy leant away, and Freddie received a soft kiss on the lips before he had the time to say a word. But in the end, he agreed nonetheless. They’d only leave the US after delivering their absolute best tour; that’s a promise.

“And thanks for the night, Freddie.” The young man assured with another warm, precious smile. “Really.”

He genuinely seemed happy; Freddie didn’t have the heart to retort their night could’ve gone much better had he not forgotten to lock the door.

“Also…” A mischievous glint made his eyes shine, and his smile turned cheeky. “’Hope I’ll have the chance to fuck you next year.”

A blush coloured his face. “I… who knows, darling. I wouldn’t be against it.”

Tommy grinned from ear to ear, and squeezed his fingers in his own. Just for a moment, Freddie felt lighter, but the feeling disappeared as the young man and his bright smile walked out of the room.

One last glance, and he was left alone, surrounded by an uncomfortable silence. Only then, he felt the need to check his appearance in the mirror. But from the moment he looked at his reflection, his sad look – and the dark rings under his eyes – reminded him why he had wanted to avoid it earlier.

A long sigh escaped him. He couldn’t just pull that face all day long. And as much as he didn’t want to leave his room, he couldn’t avoid seeing Roger again.

The dark rings could be fixed with a bit of make-up. Once done, he took a deep breath, gathered his strength, and walked towards the door, head high. Regardless of what waited for him downstairs, of what his friend thought of him now, he couldn’t let it get him down, neither show how it affected him.

**-***-**

The rest of the day was spent sightseeing: visiting a part of the city – as they were reminded once again, New York was fucking _huge,_ taking loads of photos – at this rate, Brian would have enough to organise an exhibit just with the ones he took today – and of course, doing some shopping. Buying a few nice clothes, fantasizing over some magnificent cars down the street – at least for Roger, Freddie for example couldn’t care less about the horsepower or the streamlining of these mechanical beauties. How could have he not admired that magnificent red Cadillac that’d definitely be his when they get rich?

Freddie was more interested in the photos Brian took – none of which featured cars, a tragedy – even thinking he should get a camera himself so he’d able to photograph their trips, their finds, and most probably every cat they’d come across. Other than exchanging on subjects of interest to immortalise with the guitarist, he also spent quite some time commenting on things they came across with John, like the numerous colourful signs, and their colour coding of a discussable taste sometimes.

They also got to know more about Steve. The young man actually had never been to one of their concerts, and was a bit ashamed to admit it, but Freddie seemed excited by this revelation. He assured that now at least he’d have the chance of watching them closer than a lot of people would ever do, although, of course, his work wouldn't be the most restful.

They returned to the hotel in the evening with sore legs, and their heads full of memories. Oh, how good it was to have their own room, with their own _large_ , _comfortable_ bed. Of course, when the tour would resume, they’d probably have to go back to shared rooms, maybe with shared beds too. It wouldn’t be a surprise if management made up something about not having enough money to spare for a personal assistant and individual rooms.

The newfound quietness would be perfect to start reading a bit before dinner time, but Roger’s mind focused back the events of last night, and he just couldn’t put these thoughts aside. Especially as, despite the smile and the enthusiasm Freddie showed earlier, Roger couldn’t forget his obvious discomfort of seeing him this morning. Just because he seemed to do better during the day didn’t mean…

“Fuck.”

He sat up, and lightened a cig. He felt very thick all of a sudden.

He remembered the time where Freddie and him were occasionally called a couple of queens, when they run a stall in Kensington and occupied a dingy flat. Along with that, the sniggers, the innuendos, the teasing.

Bollocks! He had a pretty face that made him popular with a lot of people – including the audience he didn’t really hope to attract; he liked women a hundred percent, but as for men, thanks but no thanks. What about Freddie? Well, his feminine and delicate side, his habit of using “dear” and “darling” didn’t prove anything! After all, as soon as fame started to come to them, he was surrounded with girls, and of course, he’d been in a relationship with Mary for years.

It meant something.

…Right?

He knew Freddie since 1969. He couldn’t have been fooled for all these years.

But apparently he could’ve been, because that damn picture of this naked guy above Freddie couldn’t be more explicit. As for Freddie’s arousal. Not that he’d wanted to focus on his friend’s junk, it just had been difficult not to see it – with all these narrow changing rooms they’d shared he knew he was well-endowed, but to see it in action-

Someone knocked on the door. “Rog?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“We’re waiting for you in the restaurant. Deaky’s hungry.”

Thank you Brian, he really should be focusing on anything else than Freddie’s dick anyway.

“’Coming in two minutes, I’m finishing my ciggy.” He announced.

“Yes please, don’t come stinking up our table.”

Roger could almost see his friend’s disappointed face through the door. Sorry Brian, but no amount of disapproving looks would make him stop smoking.

The walls being thin, he heard Brian knock on the opposite door and call Freddie. Almost immediately, his mind went back to last night’s events. He breathed in, then exhaled a puff of smoke, and watched it slowly dissolve in the air.

Freddie liked men. There was no other way of wording it.

And him who had always presumed that… what about all these girls he saw him surround himself with, the groupies. Was he only pretending to be into them all along? To make everyone believe-

And what about Mary? He always thought they loved each other and formed a happy pair. Was it all a lie?

And for how long had Freddie been going off with guys? Was he the only one who knew?

Fuck.

…In any case, yes, it got him by surprise, to say the least, but it didn’t change anything. Freddie was still his best friend.

Except in a way, there were a few things he now viewed differently.

These insults Freddie and him endured. He always brushed them off like it was nothing, and he remembered Freddie doing the same. Sometimes. He could also remember when he lost his smile and even seemed to curl up. He’d always told him not to listen to those tossers, but clearly, these words had affected him in a way he hadn’t even suspected.

Did Freddie see himself as the names he was called?

Roger’s heart tightened at the thought. Next time some wanker would dare say something like that, he’d make sure to clock them. Freddie didn’t deserve to suffer because of this crap. He’d also-

Another thought crossed his mind. Did Freddie think Brian, John and him would hate him if they knew about his attraction to men?

Did Freddie think _he_ hated him, after what he saw last night?

Roger’s mouth twisted; as one last puff of smoke dissolved in the air, he stubbed out his cig in the ashtray.

Dammit. If Freddie was deep down disgusted with himself, and afraid he’d loose their friendship, no wonder he had never said a word to them, to him, about it.

Roger had felt thick before, but now just he felt bad. He had never thought Freddie could be going through so much. Maybe he should assure him he wasn’t disgusted with him. And also excuse himself for barging in his room like an idiot and ruining his night.

But when he walked to his friend’s room, a minute later, he realised it was easier said than done. How would Freddie react if he started talking to him about all that? Also, he might have already joined Brian and John at the hotel’s restaurant for dinner, so maybe he was just standing there in front of the door like an idiot.

In the end, he decided to give it a try, and knocked. “Freddie?”

After a few seconds, no one answered. He was about to walk away when he heard muffled steps coming close. The door was unlocked, and Freddie opened, a little smile on his face.

“You aren’t hungry too?”

The question threw Roger for a moment. “What-no, I mean… I thought maybe you already joined Bri and Deaky.”

“Oh, no, I’m not hungry. There’s this song I’ve been trying to work on for… quite some time now, and I’d really like to make progress on it.” Freddie confessed. “So don’t wait for me.”

“Oh, okay. But, uh…”

“Yes dear?”

He waited, his little smile still on his face. Roger hesitated to talk, but eventually decided to have a go. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation by no means, but he felt he really needed to reassure Freddie. Who knew what was really going on behind his smile?

“…About last night…”

The speed at which Freddie’s face crumpled took him by surprise.

“Not right now, Rog.” He asked in a low but firm tone. “Sorry.”

Before Roger had the time to say a word, the door was closed.

…Well.

Then again, maybe he also should have expected a direct refusal to talk about it. And that “not right now” sounded more like “I don’t want to have this conversation, ever”.

Freddie was still affected by what happened, and it was all the more reason to insist and say he had no problems with his attraction for men. Not immediately of course, but Roger knew he couldn’t let fear and apprehension prevent Freddie from letting him talk about what he had seen. Especially since he didn’t want to hurt him.

And since the tour would resume very soon now, he had to try tomorrow. Hopefully, Freddie would be ready to hear him by then.

**-***-**

To think it was their last afternoon of quietness already, before the tour swept them up in its whirlwind of excitement, impassioned concerts, and, Freddie dearly hoped, success. Tomorrow morning, they’d have to leave New York for La Crosse in Wisconsin, and say goodbye to the great clubs and their comfortable hotel rooms.

Time really fled by, but Freddie was glad the week was over. His place was on stage, singing and giving his soul to the show, and even if he knew very well this enforced rest had been necessary for his voice, to save the tour in the long run, it had been frustrating to stay here when things had started so well for them in the US. If only he had managed to make progress on his song…

Of course, it probably would’ve been easier to work on it if he had a fully equipped studio at hand, or if he was at home, with his piano, his tea and his felines babies. And he knew he wouldn’t have access to either before a couple of weeks. Maybe leaving the song aside for now would be a reasonable decision, but he just wanted to see that damn page with more lines other than the sole one currently at the top. More specifically, lines that wouldn’t be crossed out several times after he read them.

He stared at his notebook for a moment, swirling his pencil in silence, then sighed. At least tomorrow, he’d have other things to occupy his mind with.

Someone knocked at the door. “…Freddie?”

Involuntarily, he stiffened. It was Roger.

_Calm down. He’s not necessarily here to speak to you about… that. Maybe he’s bored and wants to play Scrabble._

“Freddie, ‘you in there?”

_Besides, even if he wanted to talk about that, you wouldn’t be able to run away from it. It was bound to happen. Of course he wouldn’t ignore the fact you enjoy getting fucked by men altogether._

“…Freddiiiiie?” Roger asked with a crescendo in his voice.

He couldn’t stifle a laugh. “…What is it dear?”

“’Knew you were in there!” He could almost see his smile. “Can I come in?”

A big part of him still wanted to say no. But… Roger wouldn’t do a bit of humour if he had hurtful things to say to him. Right?

“Sure, wait a minute.”

He put down his notebook, and got up to unlock the door. Once inside, Roger was quick to notice the notebook laying upside down on the cover.

“’Hope I’m not interrupting your creative flow.”

Freddie sighed, and went back to sit on bed. “Honestly Roger, inspiration doesn’t even come in drops for now. It’s discouraging.” He then tried a smile, and shifted to the side so his friend would join him. “What about you? ‘Found any ideas for a song?”

Roger grimaced, and slumped on the bed besides him. “Eeeh, not really. I mean, honestly I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Okay. Well, I look forwards to see what masterpiece you’ll have come up with for our next album.”

Roger smiled back. “Same for me.”

Then his smile tensed, and he looked away. Without a word, Freddie took his notebook and pencil, and went back to the page where he working on creating a song. But acting like he was trying to be productive didn’t make the silence less oppressing. Neither did it ease his fears of what his friend would say next.

Without looking up, he noticed Roger slowly crossing his legs. “…Freddie?”

After a few seconds, he raised his head. Roger was showing a small, uncertain smile, and he seemed hesitant to speak. Which didn’t exactly reassure him. It wasn’t like Roger at all to hesitate speaking his mind. Unless he was just trying not to browbeat him?

“I’d like to talk with you.”

He sounded so quiet, so formal. So unlike him as well…

It _had_ to be about that night.

Freddie’s hands tightened around his notebook and pencil. A conversation about what he’d seen was the last thing he wanted. But Roger’s face showed neither anger, nor disgust.

“I-… First I need to tell you, I’m sorry. For barging in on you while-” His lips tightened. “I-I mean I was _hammered_ that night. I was actually playing Scrabble with Brian and John in my room, ‘t was my turn and… I just couldn’t choose between two words- fuck, I don’t even remember what it was, anyway, since I couldn’t choose and I was dumb, I thought ‘hey, maybe Fred’ll be able to help me?’ and so…”

His mouth twisted downside, looking like he was saying “you know the rest.” Freddie put his notebook and his pen aside, and waited for him to continue.

“Brian _did_ tell me I shouldn’t disturb you so late, so early I mean, and yet y’know he’d necked way too much too… Anyway, I’m sorry.” Roger repeated, clearly not proud of himself.

Freddie didn’t really know what to think. His apologies didn’t change the fact it had been humiliating for him, but he was glad Roger was saying sorry nonetheless.

But in the end, whose fault was it? It was more of a “wrong place, wrong time” type of unfortunate event; and it was far from being the dumbest thing his friend had ever done under the influence of alcohol. And, Roger’s interruption would’ve been harmless and much less humiliating had _he_ not forgotten to lock the door like an idiot, a part of his mind reminded him.

“…Apologies accepted dear.”

Roger smiled again, but like the previous one, it didn’t last. “…Fred?”

Now that he said “sorry”, would he continue with the less pleasant and polite part? The one that’d always hurt, no matter how much he braced himself?

“Yeah?”

He lowered his eyes, and Freddie did the same, watching his fingers wriggle for a short moment. When he raised his eyes, Roger was looking at him again. No animosity in his clear eyes.

“…I don’t… I-I must admit, I didn’t think you liked-”

“No.”

The word had leaped out of his mouth, like an automatism. A pre-recorded answer to any similar claim. Or maybe it was a short way to say “I don’t want to talk about that”?

Roger’s eyes opened a bit wider in surprise, and Freddie closed his mouth.

_Very convincing._

“…Sorry.” He whispered, shame turning his stomach upside down.

He fought not to look away, despite only wanting to curl up and vanish from the room. What was the point of trying to deny anything when his friend had caught him at his most intimate moment?

_Idiot._

Roger then laid his hand on his knee, and squeezed it gently. “Freddie… I don’t care who you decide to share your bed with. Really. And anyone who has a problem with who you want to be with can go fuck themselves.”

Freddie almost immediately thought about his parents. The image of Roger brandishing his fist at them, teeth grit, ready to protect him while they stared at him, scandalized, amused him and softly warmed his heart.

“…I don’t hate you for that. And… It’s not something bad, Freddie.”

There was so much conviction in his voice, in his eyes, Freddie wanted to believe him.

“Are you really okay with… that?” He asked in a low voice.

“’F course!” Roger assured, raising his voice a little. “And again, it’s not something you deserve eternal suffering for or whatever bullshit of that kind. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He squeezed his knee again. Freddie thought he didn’t deserve neither the soft, absolutely sincere smile, nor the comforting look his friend was showing him, but at the same time he wanted to be held close, hear these kind and unexpected words over and over, until his self-confidence was as strong as his friend’s, until this side of him weighting on his mind disappeared entirely. When this day would come…

A hand waving in front of him snapped him from his thoughts. He must’ve zoned out.

“Freddie?” Roger asked, frowning.

Freddie’s eyes focused on him again. “…Oh, it’s nothing Rog. Just-”

He really wanted to believe in his words. Simply, he had a lot to unlearn.

Him who never even alluded to the subject with his bandmates, it was hard to process he was actually discussing that with Roger. If it could be called a discussion, given he’d barely talked. It was Roger who insisted to have this talk, who went out of his way to reassure him; he hadn’t been exactly ready for this confrontation – he was never ready for confrontations about his inclinations – but maybe he had needed that particular one.

“…I’m not used to that.” He confessed in a low voice.

Roger raised a brow. “Not used to talking about it, y’mean?”

Not used to these confrontations ending this well, with kind words and the feeling he hadn’t disappointed anyone.

“…Yeah.”

Freddie only had a small, safe circle of friends, different from the one he formed with the rest of Queen, where he felt comfortable enough to talk about who really attracted him. And now…

“I see. I just had…” He thought for a moment, lips tensed. “I just wanted to let you know.”

Now Roger was standing somewhere between the two, and Freddie didn’t know how to feel about it. Roger wasn’t supposed to know in the first place. It would take some time before he’d be perfectly comfortable with that, as he hadn’t planned to tell his bandmates. But hearing from his friend’s own mouth he didn’t hate him for… for liking men – _stop avoiding saying that, you’ve known for_ _years, dimwit_ – and that he wasn’t disgusted with him was priceless.

His lips curled into a small but grateful smile. “Okay. I… Thank you Roger.”

The bright, happy smile blossoming on Roger’s face in return was nothing but beautiful. At that moment, Freddie finally felt a bit lighter and relaxed.

“You’re welcome Fred. Now…” He de-crossed his legs and got up, a determined look on his face. “’Up for a game?”

Freddie smirked, and leant back. “I’m always up to see you loose miserably.”

“Haha, give me two hours and we’ll see who’s crying by the bed.” Roger announced before leaving the room to retrieve the Scrabble board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with chapter 4! It was supposed to be a shorter chapter - but is still around 3800 words 😂 - but it still took me time to write it. Had to juggle between my summer job, my essay and this chapter during the summer. 
> 
> Anyway, have a good read! ❤

As the tour resumed, days and shows went by at high speed. Freddie was compelled to be more careful with his voice and moderate his vocal exchanges with the audience, but true to himself, he still gave his most and sang, performed with all his heart. This time, nothing would prevent their conquest of the United States. Reviews weren’t always as bright as their spotlights, but music press never had been what made Queen successful anyway. After having to stop for a week, conquering the stage again and observing halls almost always full was the group’s – and management’s – greatest joy, and Freddie never forgot to thank their fans. During some shows, he even threw them roses and carnations.

With concerts, interviews started again, sometimes annoying but essential to promote the band’s arrival in each town. Queen had always held a certain level of care, seriousness and professionalism when it came to their shows’ preparation, no matter what, and they appreciated each opportunity to talk about key aspects like soundchecks or their important lighting work. Too bad this type of questions only came once in a while.

If they didn't yet have fame neither fortune, at least they had the girls, to Roger’s delight. Not so surprisingly, he had the biggest number of groupies – at least one thing he had that Freddie would never envy – and though he didn’t really flaunt with any of them, he didn’t stop at smiling for a photo or signing autographs either, like John did. But regardless of what these girls could hope, nights with them didn't mean anything serious; no one could replace Jo.

No one could replace Chrissie either, but Brian never seemed at ease with himself whenever he brought someone to his hotel room. Freddie had seen the conflict on his face, the heartache between the immediate need to have someone close and the thought of his girlfriend, back home. Alone but probably not cheating. No doubt his father, who had never accepted the idea that his only son chose the rock and roll's path rather than a well-ordered life, would be furious. As for what his own father would say, Freddie preferred not to think about it.

He understood too well what his friend went through. Hearing from Mary occasionally – they didn’t have the money to do it on a regular basis – felt very good, and he meant it, when he said he missed her. But as he called her, his mind could be with the last man he shared his bed with. His body remembered sensations, while he remembered nights with his girlfriend; not exactly unpleasant, but without the “something” he found in men’s company.

During these moments, it was hard not to listen to that side of him that weighted on his shoulders and tightened his stomach.

_I_ _t’s not something bad, Freddie._

Focusing on Roger’s reassuring words, on the memory of his sincere smile was one thing, but believing his friend was right was another. Some clouds were hard to chase away.

And the mere fact he _knew_ … it was scary. But not because Roger could expose his secret.

Rather, Freddie had always been deeply afraid of others’ reactions if they were to learn about it. He had hidden, and even tried to silence this part of him – to no avail – for a long time; and when suddenly discovered, it was accepted unconditionally. When himself couldn’t do it.

After all the nastiness he had heard, all the antipathy he had observed towards homosexuality, and the fear of having lost a friend, Roger insisted to tell him he had no problems with his attraction for men, that he didn’t hate him and it wasn’t something horrible or disgusting. All of this in the span of two days.

It had happened very fast, too fast for him, and it was a lot to take in. At least Roger didn’t try to address the subject of his sexuality again, and it reassured Freddie, given he absolutely wanted to avoid talking about it more. But most of all, Roger stayed natural with him. He was as tactile as ever, still so quick to share his personal space without any restraint or apprehension, as if what he had learned didn't matter.

For Roger to accept him, for him to stay his friend, it was all Freddie had ever hoped for, without never really believing in it. He had arrived like rays of a summer sun after days of rain.

And so, the fact he knew was a bit less scary.

**-***-**

Shows after-parties were great. Though when idiots who couldn’t watch their steps tripped and spilled their drinks all over your favourite top, they got considerably less great. Freddie wasn’t sure the stains would disappear, and it wasn’t like he had a washing machine nearby. In the mean time, he’d have to try to reduce the damage with water and a bit of soap he hoped to find in the toilets. God knows those places could be clean as a bin.

Given the condition of the hallway, he expected to find some horrible stench of piss, but when he opened the door, he only found Brian, leaning over the sink that was the closest to the wall, a faraway look in his eyes. The ambient thumping was drown out, and suddenly, taking care of the damn stain didn’t seem important anymore.

He closed the door as silently as possible. “Brian?”

Brian jumped and turned towards him, an awkward smile growing on his face. “…Hey Fred.”

He looked embarrassed, and seemed to curl up as if he had been caught doing something stupid.

“Everything’s okay dear?” Freddie asked, getting closer.

He straightened up, and showed another smile, more confident – or at least, he tried to. “Yeah. Yeah it’s good, ‘m just… just a bit tired.”

Freddie believed him – Brian looked absolutely awful right now, even if he didn’t like to say it – but he knew there was more than fatigue wearing down his face.

“Sorry dear, but you look terrible. And not because you lack a few hours of sleep.”

Brian’s smile quickly disappeared, and Freddie’s heart tightened when he seemed to curl up even more. He stayed silent, so Freddie took another step towards him and gently laid a hand on his arm.

“Did something happen?”

Brian looked up, and he showed him a reassuring smile, even though his silence started to worry him. It was precisely because he knew his friend was often beset with doubts and questions, and always kept what was tormenting him for himself, that he didn’t intend to leave the room before making sure nothing serious had happened.

“No, it’s nothing. I just… I’m just gonna go back to the hotel. Don’t worry about me.”

But of course, he couldn’t simply say that and expect Freddie to roll with it. “Then I’ll go back to the hotel with you.”

Brian‘s eyes opened a bit wider. “You don’t have to-”

Freddie cut him with a hand gesture. “It’s non-negotiable dear.”

His gaze and tone were soft but firm, and a resigned smile eventually appeared on the guitarist’s face. A simple “okay” ended the conversation, and the walk back to the hotel was silent – at least in words, even though it wasn't New York there always seemed to be some activity around here. Once there, Freddie just took the time to put on a clean top before joining Brian in his room.

After the deafening noise of the club and the cars passing by during their walk back, the quietness of his room was very much appreciated. He was greeted with a smile, although by the time he was sitting besides Brian on his small but comfortable bed, his smile had disappeared, replaced by a face riddled with feelings heavy to bare.

“Bri, if there’s something worrying you, or anything…” He slowly started to rub his back. “I’m here to listen.”

Brian stayed still for a moment, before bringing his hands to his lap, head lowered. “…I miss home.” He paused, frowning slightly, before resuming. “I mean, don’t get me wrong- I’m very, very happy we’re here, touring in America again, without any big problems. It’s just… calling Chrissie every once in a while feels good, but…”

Freddie stayed silent, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“…I miss her presence. And when I find myself alone at night, without her by my side, it’s… even if I- I try to find someone else to…” His lips tensed for a short moment. “Fill the void, I suppose, it’s… it’s never really the same. Something’s always missing.” He paused again, before turning towards Freddie. “…Do you ever feel the same way?”

The words hit close, too close for comfort. Freddie understood too well that feeling of something that was always missing, even if his situation was the opposite of his friend’s.

“I… I understand what you feel. It’s not something easy to deal with.”

And there was no easy solution for either of them. _Especially_ not for him.

“…But you’ll still see her after the tour.” He assured eventually with a small smile.

“Not for long though.” Brian said in a low voice. “I mean… we’ll barely have a week at home before our stay at Hawaii and the tour in Japan. Without considering the possible dates in Australia and-” He didn’t finish his sentence. A certain sadness darkened his face, and he looked away. “…Oh, forget it. It’s to be expected, it’s part of touring. I’ll just have to make do.”

Freddie thought for a moment. It wasn’t as if their girlfriends could accompany them on tour, but… “Maybe we could have a word with Jack about it. See if we can organise something. I’m sure Deaky would love to spend more time with Ronnie as well.”

“…Yes, that would be lovely.”

Silence came back into the room, and the faint smile Brian had expressed at Freddie’s suggestion disappeared. Freddie waited again for him to continue; the absence of his girlfriend surely wasn’t the only thing weighing on his mind.

“The other day… I got my parents on the phone, and… y’know, Mom always asks me if I'm sleeping enough, if everything is alright, so it’s not all bad I guess. But Dad, he…” A pained expression grew on his face, and Freddie’s heart tightened. “He still hasn't accepted it."

He kept silent. His own father usually held his tongue about this subject, but he probably hadn’t truly accepted it either. Not that Freddie held forth on the band when he talked with them over the phone, or when he paid them a visit. Their conversations often tended to get back to Mary and him, recently.

No wonder why he had been less in touch with them, over the last months.

"When he talk he's never really mean, but it's obvious he's not happy I'm playing rock and roll thousands of miles from home instead of…” Having a _respectable_ job and a steady life. Freddie could almost hear the words in his father’s serious voice. “And… I-I know it’s not what he had considered for me, but…” A long sigh escaped him, and his look became more assertive as he looked back at Freddie. “I just wish he'd understand. I don't intend to come back on my decision and drop the band anytime soon."

Freddie pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead. "Phew, and here was I thinking we’d have to do auditions to find a replacement for our astounding guitarist."

A shy, grateful smile bloomed on Brian’s face. But it could be seen in his eyes he had something else difficult to say, and so his smile didn’t last long.

“Sometimes… I feel like I’ve disappointed him, y’know, and I fucking hate that.”

Brian was the tallest of them, yet at this moment he seemed so small, and it pained Freddie to see him like that. He laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and showed him a gentle smile. He could only sympathise, knowing too well what his own father would’ve wanted him to be, and especially, what he would never be. Who he would never be.

But it wasn’t about him right now, so he left his own problems aside to focus on his friend. "Parents often have in mind something different from what you want to do. And sometimes… it's hard not to think you've disappointed them. But that's your life dear, and your choices. One day, your father will understand it's what you want to do more than anything, and he’ll accept you."

And maybe, one day… for want of looking upon him with pride, maybe his own father would at least accept him too.

"…I hope. I… Thank you Freddie." A smile lightened up Brian's face, and this one didn’t disappear after a few seconds. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He didn’t know what he’d do without Brian, or any of his wonderful bandmates either. “’Glad I could do something to help, dear.”

**-***-**

Finding a nice place to celebrate their successful show in New Orleans wasn’t difficult at all. Roger still remembered the bar they hanged out in last year – at least, before _one of them_ disappeared to go God knows here later that night – and was quick to bring the rest of the band there with enthusiasm. Time to have a good time and get wasted.

But not only! As they settled down to a table, each with a beer in front of them, he was quick to reminisce about their discovery of the city and its wonderful night ambience. Specifically, there was one particular story he wanted to learn more about.

“So, Brian.” He started with a big smile, unable to hide his excitement. “New Orleans. Brings back some memories, eh?” He asked, before nudging his friend.

“I don’t…” The guitarist stopped, and his frown was replaced by an unmistakable blush colouring his cheeks. “Nothing happened between Peaches and me!”

 _Of course_ he’d deny anything happened, the fool. “ Hmm, ‘dunno, the first thing you talk about when I mention the city is this mysterious girl you then _assure_ you didn’t sleep with . Not suspicious _at all.”_

“I swear! I mean I don’t remember everything, but I’m certain-”

Freddie tried – and failed – to hide a smile. “Oh dear, you’re only digging yourself in deeper.” He offered Brian a sympathetic look, before looking back at the drummer. “Rog, leave Brian and his sweet memories alone.”

“Sorry Bri, ‘looks like you won’t escape this.” John announced, amused, his drink in hand.

Brian grimaced, and glanced at Roger. His eyes asked a desperate “ _why_?”, but Roger didn’t feel merciful tonight. Not when there was a great sexual anecdote to dig up.

“…What the hell do you even want to know?”

“ _Everything_ _!_ ” He took a large gulp of his beer, and put back the empty glass none too gently, a wide smile on his face. “I wanna hear the full story behind this famous Peaches and whatever that dungeon was. Don’t you Deaks?”

A cheeky smile grew on John’s face. “I mean, I _am_ curious. ’ _D_ _own in the dungeon just Peaches and me’_ does raise some questions. Brian, what exactly were you doing with her in there?”

Roger then went straight to another important point. “Yeah, was it even just the two of you-”

“Just because _you_ want to have a threesome doesn’t mean I want one too.” Brian replied, his cheeks noticeably redder than before, before grabbing his glass.

“Eh I was actually thinking more along the lines of an orgy, but that works too.” Roger then smiled wider, and kept fixing him with mischievous eyes as he drank. “And what do you mean, you wouldn’t have a threesome? Imagine you and Peaches with-”

The guitarist got up in a flash, and announced he’d get them other beers before quickly walking away towards the counter, where a small mass of people had gathered. Roger frowned, and sighed internally. Brian was great and all, truly, but why did he have to be so hung-up sometimes?

“Coward!” He let out, before turning towards Freddie and John and crossing his arms. At least _they_ wouldn’t disappoint him. “So, what do you think?”

After a few seconds of reflection, John shrugged. “’I’m not sure. Do you really think he had sex with Peaches?”

“ _Totally_.” Roger assured with another large grin. “Who knows, maybe he even really had a threesome! But of course, he’s _Brian,_ even with two bottles in his bloodstream he’d never dare to tell us.”

Another smile grew on John’s face. “Whereas you…”

“Oh, _me._ ” His own grin grew predatory, and he straightened up, looking very proud of himself. “When it comes to sex, you know I could tell you everything. The day I have a threesome, you guys will be the first to know.” He then turned towards Freddie, who had stayed awfully quiet during this important conversation. “And you Fred? What do you think?”

He was hoping for a smile and a daring idea, but unfortunately, the singer only shrugged. “I don’t know, dear. Maybe Brian doesn’t even remember the full story himself. Maybe his night was nothing worth telling.“

“That’d be lame!” Brian wandering in the city on his own and meeting a girl somewhere could only be the start of a memorable story. “Nah, if he decided to mention Peaches in the song, it has to be important.” And by important, he meant steamy.

“Eh, ‘dunno.” John seemed dubious, a corner of his mouth turned down. “I mean he also mentions Mott in the song, ‘doesn’t mean he had it off with each of his members.”

Roger couldn’t stifle a laugh. Now _that_ would have been something memorable. “I mean- Sure! But he said ‘the city’. Whereas ‘the dungeon’ is _one_ particular place and all.” He turned towards Freddie again. “Really Fred, you don’t have a theory about all of that?”

Freddie sighed, but kept a small smile on his face. “…Maybe Peaches is a clogs fan and they spent the night talking about clogs.”

“…Maybe Brian even showed her his clogs.” John pondered, a suggestive expression on his face.

Roger sniggered. “The ones he keeps in his briefs?”

The bassist sniggered in return, and an amused smile grew on Freddie’s face. Then Roger noticed Brian innocently coming back with more drinks, and he couldn’t help but laugh when their looks crossed. Brian continued to stare at him, his eyes narrowed as he put the beers on their table.

“…Did I miss something?” He asked as he sit back next to him.

“Oh, nothing dear, we were talking about your clogs.”

John laughed louder, showing a flash of his teeth, and Brian only looked more confused. The best part was, they had only had one beer.

“…Rather, we were speculating about what you might have done with Peaches last year.” Freddie specified.

Brian didn’t look more enlightened. “…What's that got to do with my clogs?”

Roger and John glanced at each other, before bursting out laughing. The weird images his brain created didn’t help calm him down, and the two needed a moment before truly stopping to laugh. When he looked at Brian again, the guitarist seemed as confused as before, and his puzzled face alone was almost enough to create a new wave of laughs.

Freddie, who was still trying to keep his smile and amusement under control, laid a hand on his arm. “Just drop it Bri. It’s not worth your brain cells.”

“Hey you’re the one who brought up clogs!”

“For my defence, my idea was perfectly innocent. Anyway!” He clapped his hands and placed his elbows on the table. “Let’s leave clogs and Brian’s hypothetical steamy night aside, and focus on what really matters.”

“Cars?” Roger asked with a large grin. “Sex in general?”

Freddie sighed in fond exasperation, and focused on him. “I do agree sex is wonderful darling, but that’s not my point here.” He then looked back at Brian and John with a large smile. “Think about it. We’re back in America, this time without being a support band, and illnesses and painful throats are behind us.” At least they all dearly hoped so. “And, success is here. We’re touring all over America and we’re being fucking successful!”

Seeing Freddie with such radiant eyes and a bright smile on his face, without covering his teeth, warmed Roger’s heart greatly. Queen’s success meant a lot for each of them, of course, but he knew better than anyone else how important the band always had been for Freddie, who had never wanted anything more in life than to shine through the music he sang and wrote. After all they went through during these last years, all their hard work in the hope of making it, they deserved every bit of their success. And fuck the supposedly experts in music who said otherwise, of course.

“Damn right! We’re bloody good, and we have every right to be successful.” A bright smile also bloomed on his face, and he grabbed his glass. “Cheers!”

Brian and John grabbed their drinks in return, and they drank to their success. The tour wasn’t over, sure, but the band deserved a celebration.

“’Telling y’all, by the end of the tour, we’ll have all America at our feet. And then-” Roger took another gulp, and put back the glass on the table none too gently. “Then it’ll be the fucking _world_.”

“Roger, we’re a rock band, not the next James Bond villains.”

“Who says we can’t be both?” He replied with confidence. “Besides, it’d be great. Villains always have a fuck ton of money.”

And a nice house, or at the very least a comfortable secret base, and they also always had the financial means to do everything they wanted and everything they needed to fight the heroes. While the four of them only had small and cold flats, with little money, and the only thing they were fighting was mould.

“True. That’s tempting.” John said, looking into his glass. “I think I’m gonna change careers and get into world’s domination.”

“Deaky, you forget that the good always triumphs.” Freddie reminded with wisdom. “And we didn’t go through so many bassists only for our own who’s incredibly talented like the rest of us to quit and become a villain. Although I admit, living in my own huge secret base, with fine furniture and a cat next to me is quite tempting.”

Roger had no problems imagining the scene. And he had no trouble imagining himself as the hero who would save the world and get the girl either, but… then he’d have to arrest Freddie, and it would be painful. “Please don’t become a villain Fred. You’d be unstoppable.”

“I know dear.” He replied with a smile. “But don’t worry, I plan to stay a humble lead singer for Queen, and dominate the world with music rather than weapons of mass destruction.”

Eyes sparkling, he raised his glass, and the four clinked their drinks again, in the silent promise of fame and worldwide success to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated ❤


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! For once, I was quick to write a chapter 😆 I'm starting school again tomorrow, so we'll see if I manage to have a better work (and writing) organisation. This chapter is shorter, but trust me, I'll have a lot to develop in the next ones...
> 
> ❤ Have a good read! ❤

“As the leader of Queen, what do you think of the band’s success during your tour in the country? I’ve heard almost all the shows were a sell-out.”

Freddie smiled, slightly annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he had been designated as such, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

“Dear, I don’t see myself as the leader of Queen, only the lead singer.”

“But most of Queen’s songs were created by you. And when Queen is mentioned, the majority of people think ‘Freddie Mercury’ first. You may only see yourself as the lead singer but you certainly have the most influence.”

The most influence on what? Was that interviewer another one of these people who didn’t understand the band didn’t revolve exclusively around him?

Not that he was surprised. They had given a very long list of interviews since they arrived in the United States, so he was used to repeat himself, but it didn’t make it less tiring. At least there hadn’t been an umpteenth irritating comparison to Led Zeppelin this time. And he wasn’t suffering a hangover, unlike their poor drummer half slumped in his seat, who was hiding his tired eyes behind fashionable sunglasses. Brian and John looked a bit fresher but certainly not because they’d gone to bed earlier than him.

“You see-” Freddie straightened in his chair, and crossed his legs as he looked at the interviewer straight in the eye. “The number of songs each of us have written doesn’t determine importance within the band. I may have written most of them, but I wouldn’t have gone very far in this industry without each of my bandmates, regardless of my stage presence. Roger, Brian, John and their creativity are crucial to Queen’s success.“

Letting people think he was the leader of Queen and that his bandmates weren’t really important next to him was something Freddie didn’t like at all. Hopefully the next question would spark a more interesting discussion.

“Anyway, we’ve had high hopes for this tour, especially after the one we had to shorten last year. We’ve been through a rather difficult period after that, but we came back to America with a new album, stronger than ever, and to see so many fans welcoming us at each concert was very rewarding.”

“Hmm. And do you think your stage image has been an important part of your success?”

He folded his hands on his lap, pensive. “Well… A stage image is something we, as a group, have always tried to develop and take care of. I’ve always considered a concert should also be a visual show. That’s why I think a strong stage image is important, but it should work hand in hand with a strong music, of course.”

The interviewer nodded. “Indeed, your stage presence is quite memorable and fascinating. You’ve attracted the eye of many, women and men alike; some wonder if the camp, flamboyant image you’re projecting on stage is only there for the show.”

Freddie had trouble maintaining eye contact with him.

He was open to discussions about personal matters. Asking about the kind of music he listened to or even where he bought his clothes was one thing; implying things about his sexuality was a complete different matter. What did this prat even want to know? It was almost as bad as that cow who had questioned him once about rumours concerning boarding school and “being bent” _._

An umpteenth comparison to Led Zeppelin wouldn’t have been that bad to discuss, on second thoughts.

“That’s…”

How could he even answer that?! Without raising more suspicions anyway-

“Look, if you consider yourself a good journalist, keep this kind of ‘questions’ out of an interview.” Roger asked in a calm but sharp tone. “We’re here to talk about the band and our music first and foremost. I’m certain you have more questions about the tour.”

Everyone in the room was now looking at him. Eyes fixed on the interviewer, he had straightened and all fatigue had deserted his body. A small but grateful smile grew on Freddie’s face.

“Well…” The interviewer seemed to have lost some self-confidence; he needed a short time before addressing them again. “Roger, the tour is coming to an end. What is your best memory of America?”

A bright smile illuminated his face. “Definitely when we went to Sunset Strip. We’d had a few days off after our show at Tulsa on the 25th and we couldn’t possibly _not_ go there. We met Led Zeppelin, and many other great people, and we even played there for fun! Oh I had a _blast_ that day.”

“Interesting. What about you Brian?”

“Oh- Uhm… I have many great memories of the tour, so choosing one is difficult, but I can talk about the evening where we went to see Led Zeppelin’s concert at the Forum, near Los Angeles – a wonderful show, by the way.” _Of course_ Brian would talk about that show, it had glued him. “You see, we had thought that, playing at the Rainbow last year in England, we had made it, but seeing them on that stage that night…”

His hazel eyes, which had been rather dull during the whole interview, now sparkled. Freddie found that endearing.

“I actually dream of us playing there, one day.”

“Well, with the success of your tour, I don’t see why it couldn’t happen one day. John?”

The bassist stayed still, except for a lopsided grin forming on his face. “I _loved_ answering interviews.”

Watching the interviewer’s smile being wiped away was very satisfying. “…Right. And as for you Freddie?”

“Well… I agree with Brian, choosing one moment is quite difficult. I think… I think touring here as a whole is one wonderful memory. You know, during our soundcheck in Dallas we talked a bit with two young fans who wanted to meet us, and during that same concert I noticed some of our fans in the audience following our black and white theme with make-up. It was marvelous.”

“So, given the opportunity, would you tour America once again?”

Freddie wanted to laugh in his face. What kind of question was that?! “Oh we would love to! Our American fans have been wonderful. But first, we have our tour in Japan in a few weeks! We’ve been told we have a large number of fans there actually, and it’s heart-warming given we haven’t even played there yet. We’re very excited to go there.”

“Hmm. One last question; aside from your upcoming Japanese tour, what is Queen’s program for the rest of the year?”

“Ooh, well, after Japan, we have another tour planned in Australia, and then we’ll go back home to start working on our new album. Maybe we will be offered to do another tour here this year, who knows.”

“A busy program awaits you then.”

Freddie nodded. “Indeed. But the tour isn’t over yet, and we still intend to give our maximum for the last concerts we have to give here.”

**-***-**

But fate decided otherwise.

Of course, _of course_ his voice had to give out before the end of the tour. _Again_. Fragility of the human body be damned.

“…Freddie, it’s your turn.”

He didn’t bother responding to Brian, his eyes fixed on the small wooden board in front of him. If at least he could make a good word with the letters he had, but _no_ , he didn’t have a single vowel. How was he supposed to catch up?

“Freddie…”

This time, he raised his head at the guitarist, who was sitting on the other side of the Scrabble board, a shy smile on his face.

“It’s alright. It’s not your fault.”

He scoffed, and focused back on his tiles. It was nice of Brian to try to comfort him but it wasn’t because of him they’d had to cancel the show in Vancouver. Health problems of any kind were supposed to be behind them.

“Besides, it’s only for one date. We still have Seattle and Portland.”

“Actually-”

He gestured at John to stop his sentence there, without looking up. He _knew_ management had also discussed cancelling their show in Portland on the 7th, which didn’t delight him one bit. Why did he have to-

“Hey.” A warm, familiar hand squeezed his knee. “C’mon, don’t beat yourself up over this. The end of the tour was pretty intense.”

“Roger’s right Freddie, you’ve done so much for this tour.” Brian’s kind voice assured. “And we’ve been touring for a long time; it’s only natural for your body to be tired.”

“And honestly, nobody would’ve done better. Not even me.” Roger squeezed his knee again. “Focus on the positive, on what the tour brought us!”

“Success-”

“The unexpected sight of Deaky’s briefs!”

Unable to hide a smile, Freddie raised his head to see John flipping off Roger – who looked very proud of himself with his large grin – before pointing his middle finger at him.

“’Should thank you as well for letting the whole audience of Los Angeles know of this unfortunate event.”

And it wouldn’t have been complete without flipping off Brian – after all, the guitarist had also added “It’s a real treat” as his comment on his misfortune. He then looked back at the drummer, a mysterious smile on his face.

“Laugh while you can. Soon I’ll prepare my vengeance over that humiliation.”

Roger frowned. “Hey, for the record I’m the only one who didn’t say anything about your accident on stage! _The_ _se two_ who are supposed to be the most mature ones have made fun of you. If you have dirty tricks in mind, save them for them.”

“But you’re the one who brought that back.” John reminded before glancing at Brian and Freddie. “’Same goes for the two of you. Next time watch out for your pants, they could mysteriously disappear right before the show.”

Roger’s shoulders dropped. “Oh c’mon, that’s hardly a punishment! They’d even _thank you_ for giving a better view of Freddie’s legs during the show.”

Freddie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making him smile again.

“Legs, _and_ the rest of the package by the way. And I think Brian wouldn’t disappoint in that domain either.” He gave the guitarist a friendly nudge. “Right Mr Clogs?”

John sniggered. A faint blush coloured their friend’s cheeks. “…What does that have to do with my shoes?”

“Oh drop it, it’s a joke between me and Deaks. But seriously, one of these days you’ll forget your pants and once you’ll be on stage you won’t even notice.”

“It would never happen!” Brian assured, frowning.

“Really? Remind me who forgot his own handmade, more-precious-than-life-itself guitar under a bridge once?”

Only silence answered to him.

“Right.” Satisfied, Roger smiled further and stretched his arms. “Anyway, where were we?”

“I think Freddie was losing.”

Freddie kindly flipped off John, before looking back on his letters. If he couldn’t have saved the show, at least he still had a chance to save his place on the podium.

**-***-**

Time went by so fast. It was as if they had arrived on the American territory yesterday, more determined than ever to delight the audience. And yet, here they were, back on the plane just minutes before departure.

Freddie wasn’t exactly at ease. Take-off and landing had always frightened him, and trying to focus on more pleasant things – memories of him shining on stage, laughing with his bandmates during a boozy evening – didn’t do much. He had started reading a magazine to try to relax a little bit, but Roger nicked it.

So instead, he took in hand the metal pendant he was wearing, and traced the outline of the cute cat shape engraved on the round part with his index. A gift from their personal assistant.

“ _Thanks for everything Freddie. Hope I’ll have the chance of working for you next year.”_

Steve had quickly added “working for the band, I mean” afterwards, and Freddie hadn’t missed his shy smile.

He had been touched by the gesture. Things had gone well between him and the young man, but he didn’t think he had left such a good impression – it was hard to stay calm and keep a smile constantly, with the mishaps that could appear during their travels or when their shows’ preparation didn’t go smoothly. Neither did he think he had appreciated him that much.

…Then again, he had caught the young man gazing at him a few times, during soundchecks and some evenings where he hanged out with the band, before he turned his head, trying to hide his look. Maybe the gift wasn't that surprising after all.

Soft blue eyes coupled with a bright grin and a mane of light brown hair then flashed in his mind. Freddie couldn't help but smile.

_'Think about your girlfriend waiting for you at home rather than the first man you’ d wanted to sleep with here.'_

His heart tightening, Freddie forced himself to look away from the pendant and glanced at the window by his right.

‘ _And smile, for fuck’s sake. You’re happy to see her again.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The US tour is over! Next time, the week of vacation in Hawaii 🌞
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! A bit more than 5500 words 😆 It had been a while since I'd written a chapter so long. But I had a lot of things to develop here. Also, today is the 19th of September, and exactly one year ago I had started a Tumblr account to focus on Queen's content. Hard to believe a year has passed already; so much has happened in the mean time! If you want to check it out, it's [here!](https://pumpkinlilyao3.tumblr.com)
> 
> ❤ Have a good read! ❤

Not a day of rain of even clouds since they had arrived at Kauai. After the cold and snow experienced during the tour in America, and all the dull grey they were used to in England, having sun, sun, and even more sun was very enjoyable. Too enjoyable, maybe, given the sunburns some of them had caught. And it wasn’t even while sunbathing. A week of vacation for Brian the guitarist didn’t mean a week of vacation for Brian the photographer at heart; people, animals, plants, anything really could be seen as interest for him, and never mind if he suffered a few red marks on his otherwise pale skin while immortalising their vacations.

Freddie loved taking photos too, but right now, resting around the hotel’s pool along with the rest of the band and the girls seemed much more enjoyable than photographing a seagull pecking on the artificial lawn.

“Tell me if you need anything.”

“John, you asked me that five minutes ago.”

Sitting by the water, Freddie didn’t need to turn around to see the bright, sweet smile of the bassist. These last days he’d only had eyes for Veronica, and was always so close to his wife he seemed glued to her side, regularly asking if she needed water or rest or anything. Endearing, but he should let her breath a bit sometimes. Yes, her belly has grown consequently since the last time he’d seen her in January, but did she need constant observation just because the baby was on his way?

“Freddie?”

He turned around; Chrissie was looking at him behind her sunglasses, propped on one elbow.

“Please, could ask Brian to leave his camera for a second?”

“Sure dear.”

He then looked back at the guitarist, and called his name out loud. The seagulls – two others had joined the first one pecking – flew away, and Brian jumped.

“…You scared them!” He said while slowly getting up, a slight frown on his face.

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Brian, you probably have enough photos to fill an album already. There’s a warm place waiting for you right next to Chrissie!”

Another one was waiting for him, next to Mary, but he preferred sunbathing here and dangling his legs in the water. He had a good spot there; if he started to boil, he would only have to slid in the water. The quiet atmosphere and the pleasant warmth relaxed him. Most of the deck chairs were unoccupied, and only three other persons were in the pool, talking together but far away from where was sitting.

He was more the kind unable to stand still, but it felt good to simply sit there and relax, after the restlessness of the tour. Now, if only the bar and the free drinks weren’t so far away…

A flash of legs jumped to his left, and a generous wave hit him in a big splash. A familiar blonde head popping out of the water was the first thing Freddie saw as he opened his eyes again. Then followed an equally as familiar bright, unapologetic grin.

He sighed fondly, and blew on his sunglasses, covered with droplets. “…Thanks for the refreshment dear.”

“I aim to please.” Roger swam up to him, and folded his arms on the edge. “’Feels good, I was starting to boil there.”

Hard to tell if he was really reddening with the sunglasses. Probably not; he’d already developed a nice tan since they were here. “No Taylor lobster for dinner tonight it seems.” Freddie said while gently splashing him with his hand.

“Actually…”

The clear voice with a suggestive tone came from Jo. She probably had the biggest cheeky smile on her face, given the way Roger grinned in return.

“Right. Sorry, there’ll only be lobster for one person.”

“Too bad, I always wanted to taste lobster.” Freddie turned around, and looked at Jo, lying on her back, hands folded on her belly. “Jo, do you want to share or am I gonna have to fight you to death to have a bite?”

She sniggered, and sat up, a determined spark in her eyes. “So you think you’d have a chance? Where there’s life there’s hope, I know, but…”

“Dear, don’t underestimate me, I can do boxing.” He assured with a confident smile.

Jo sniggered once again, and laid back on the deck chair with a large smile. “And I have a very good right. Roger can confirm it.”

He looked back at Roger. The bright, familiar cheeky smile he was wearing spoke about another kind of ability with her right hand. It had nothing annoying, but… a part of Freddie wanted to wipe it off.

Nothing a friendly wave of water couldn’t do, fortunately.

“Oops.”

Roger wiped his eyes with a quick gesture before looking back at him, a contorted smile on his face. “And to think I wanted to buy you lobster when we’d be rich!”

Freddie’s next words transformed into a surprised cry as the sudden grip and strong tug on his arm brought him head first into the pool. He didn't stay underwater for long, and the droplets covering his sunglasses didn’t hide Roger sticking his tongue out. It was only fair game after all. Didn’t mean he couldn’t retaliate with passion and a set of big waves.

**-***-**

The number of miles showed well the distance between here and London, but for him, nothing measured the distance between this paradise and their drab capital than the regular and soothing rhythm of the waves, the sun softly warming up your skin, and the odour of sea air. You could just close your eyes and relax on the beach…

“You’re not feeling too lost Deaky?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s only for the day. Veronica will come back very soon-” A handful of sand thrown in his direction probably was the cause of the offended “Hey!” that cut the rest of his sentence. “…C’mon, admit you've been glued to her all the time since we've been here. I understand she suggested a girl-only day to breath a little-”

“Roger, stop or you’re gonna find yourself with a crab in your trunks.”

Freddie only heard the waves and the distant squawking of the seagulls.

“…I’m just saying, it’s not because she’s your wife and she’s pregnant that you have to constantly ask her if she needs anything.” Roger added in a much quieter tone.

“You’d be me, you’d act the same.”

He scoffed. “Oh no, trust me! Jo would tell me to piss off after a moment. Anyway, _ok_ , I’ll stop talking about it. The only things I'm willing to let walk around in my trunks are Jo’s hands.”

John sniggered, and silence came back between them.

Good. The idea of Roger in the same situation as John at the moment made him grimace. His friend never talked about marriage and children, but in the end even a free spirit like him would start a family, right? It was only a matter of years. Sooner or later, Brian would also join the list of fathers and husbands in the band, and him…

His stomach knotted.

‘ _Don’t think about it. Focus on the waves. The sun.’_

But once his mind started to get tangled in these heavy-going matters, escaping was difficult. _Thanks Roger._

Maybe throwing another handful of sand at him was petty, but he did it anyway.

“Bloody hell- I didn’t say anything this time!”

“Sorry darling, it was too tempting.”

Roger grumbled, and he expected a handful of sand in retaliation, but nothing happened. He dared opening his eyes, and sat up after only seeing the beautiful sky devoid of clouds. The blonde was lying on his stomach, his arms resting on each side, head turned towards John. Curious. Or maybe he planned to get revenge later, when Freddie least expected it?

“Guys!”

Without even looking at his left, Freddie knew Brian wanted to take another picture of them. Posing like a diva crossed his mind, but he simply leant backwards and laid out his legs as he fixed the camera. Roger was more than reluctant to move from his comfortable position on the grill – his black and red striped towel – just for the photo, but the promise of a free Vodka Tonic later motivated him to sit and even to smile.

“Now I’d like to sunbathe in peace, thanks.” He laid back, and Freddie did the same.

“…Guys?”

“It’s gonna be two Vodka Tonic for another photo.” Given his tone, it was non-negotiable.

“You’re tough on business. No, it’s just… how do you think Japan will be?”

Roger groaned. “Brian, we’re at Kauai, here. Y’know, on _vacation_. You’ll have all the time to think about it in the plane.”

Freddie couldn’t help but smile. To be honest, Japan also occupied his mind from time to time. Aside from the rumours of their music’s success and a very large number of fans, they didn’t know anything about the country. But simply having heard they had conquered the Japanese public without even giving a single concert there was exciting, and he couldn’t wait to discover the country.

But for now, Roger was right. Better to focus on the fine sand, the sun and the palm trees.

**-***-**

“We met a pack of cats napping in the shade yesterday while we were walking- they were adorable! All of different colours. Chrissie couldn’t resist taking a few photos and petting one of them. ‘Reminded me of someone.”

“Aw, you should’ve brought them back. I would’ve adopted them all!”

In addition to meeting a pack of cute cats, Mary had a lot to tell about their day between girls. It was colder today, and the sky was a little overcast, but the seaside was still a very nice place for a quiet morning walk, hand in hand. It felt almost strange to be just the two of them. The presence of their respective partners hadn’t prevented the boys from spending a lot of time together, at the hotel or on trips. Freddie loved these shared moments.

Not that he didn’t like spending time alone with Mary. Obviously he appreciated her company very much.

“…I hope Tom and Jerry are doing okay.”

She laughed softly. “Freddie, you know my father is taking good care of them. And you know they’ll run back to you as soon as we pick them up.”

He loved the way they twirled around his legs and fixed him with their bright eyes to greet him after a long absence. “You’re right. Still, I can’t wait to see them again.”

A little more than two more weeks before he could really spend time with his feline babies again. And his girlfriend, of course.

“By the way, my father invited you for dinner.” She announced after a short moment. “…It’s been a while since you’ve been at home.”

Unconsciously, his hold on her hand tightened a bit. “Does he have a particular day in mind?”

“Oh, not really, just… after the tour in Japan. We can decide on a date then.”

Freddie agreed with a hum, and looked back at the seaside stretching far out before them. The scenery was wonderful, truly, with all the lush vegetation and the green mountains far in the distance, but what he preferred was the sea. Most particularly, seeing and hearing the steady movement of the waves retreating and then sliding across the sand had something really relaxing about it. Too bad there were no beaches in London.

“…You agree to come to my parents' house one of these days, right?”

He turned towards Mary again; she was still smiling but he didn’t like seeing her frown, even slightly. “Oh- Of course! Of course.”

Staying silent while he was supposed to talk wasn’t a bright idea.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like meeting Mary’s father, he always had a nice word for him. Last time he had dinner at his’, in January, he hadn’t failed to tell how happy he was to have a man like him as his future son-in-law.

Oh, if he _knew_.

But his reaction certainly couldn’t be worse than his own parents’. Not that they never had any doubts; their last conversation about the subject had been closer to an interrogation Freddie wasn’t looking forwards to go through again. Neither did they, certainly. The engagement with Mary must have soothed some of their fears at least. Until when, was the question. They still had other _expectations_ for him-

“Freddie-”

‘ _You’re crushing her hand, idiot.’_

“Sorry.” He showed an apologetic smile and loosened his grip on her hand. “Did I hurt you?”

“It’s okay.”

Silence came back between them as they continued to walk. The longer it lasted, the more Freddie dreaded what Mary was going to say next.

“…Veronica told us they’re still hesitating, for the baby’s name. She asked our opinion about it but we all had a different favourite name!” She paused for a moment. Was she waiting for him to ask what it was? “…I really liked Lucas. What do you think?”

It was just an innocent question. Right?

“…It’s a cute name, but it’s not my child. I leave the choice to John and Veronica.”

And the whole responsibility of having a child too. Did Mary know that, as she was looking at him with a smile?

Probably; the last time she tried to bring the subject up, Freddie said he would rather have another cat. Or maybe she thought he would have changed his mind? It sure would make his parents proud and content, them who were only waiting for the day where they would see him on the altar with Mary, and for the day where he would come back home with their first grandchild in his arms. It was also the future Mary wanted for them.

The future he couldn’t project himself into. At least, not without them both becoming miserable.

“Freddie…”

He looked back at her. Hesitation made her tighten her lips, and her slight frown foreshadowed nothing good. He waited for her to talk, or rather, he braced himself for questions about children, the wedding, anything he would gladly leave to others, but as they kept walking in a slow pace, she stayed silent. Maybe she understood Freddie want to avoid the subject.

Just like earlier, this silence was unbearable. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk with Mary, simply-

Simply, her desires were different than his. But everyone expected the wedding and at least a first child from them. They were adults and had been together for long enough to bring the important discussions about their future marital life on the table. And he perfectly understood she wanted them to talk about it, but it wasn’t the right moment. Would it even be the right moment, one day?

‘ _As if you could give her everything she deserved.’_

Doing his best to banish these thoughts, Freddie took Mary in his arms and placed his lips on her own. The kiss lacked that spark he found with men, but the warmth of her body and the comforting presence of her hands on his waist was still pleasant, reassuring. He knew his gesture didn’t erase the many things left to discuss, but at least Mary was smiling again when he leant away from her.

New towels and parasols had popped on the beach as they walked back to the hotel. The sun had stopped hiding behind the clouds, and a breeze was gently blowing. Still too cold for him to have a dip – or at least dipping more than his calves in the water – but it would be perfect for laying down on the sand together, or searching for pretty shells. Or even simply continue the walk along the seaside.

“…I’ll keep walking a bit more.” Freddie let out, as the wooden pontoon leading back to the hotel’s path was coming closer.

“Okay.” Mary let go of his hand and gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll probably be with Veronica or Chrissie by the pool.”

He watched her walk away, before looking back at the horizon. A true picture-postcard landscape laid out before his eyes: a calm and magnificent turquoise sea, a few multicoloured sailing boats scattered here and there, and the fluffy clouds only made the lighter blue of the sky stand out more. It would be nice to have this sight as a large picture at home. But on the other hand, it would pale in comparison to standing right here, with the sun and the wind caressing his skin, and the pleasant feeling of the sand under his feet.

Brian certainly would have something to say about the landscape – or anything really, he always had a particular thought occupying in mind. Roger would have described the yacht he would have once money would rain on them. The colder water wouldn’t have stopped John from swimming to the buoy.

That awful feeling of loneliness starting to grip him, Freddie continued to walk towards the pontoon.

A familiar black and red striped towel quickly caught his eye. But it wasn't so much the colour of the towel as its occupants he was interested in; a blonde head wearing sunglasses, with a brunette resting her head on his torso, snuggled up to him. They seemed asleep, and getting closer confirmed it was Roger and Jo, sharing a towel too small for two.

One of Jo’s hands rested on Roger’s, laying on his stomach. They were adorable, and somehow it annoyed Freddie, as he stood a few meters away from them. Their combined long hair hide a good part of his shoulders and smooth chest but he didn’t miss the hickey on his neck, neither the fingers-like marks around Jo’s hips appearing from under her swimsuit. They must have made the bed creak last night.

He couldn’t exactly say the same about Mary and him.

After two months abroad without much contact with your girlfriend, seeing her again and spending a week in a nice hotel on an idyllic island together could – _should_ – have meant happy and passionate nights. And while he had never pushed Mary away whenever she initiated a move, and he did his best to make her feel good…

‘ _It’s the least you can do, given all she has to put up with thanks to you.’_

He looked away from the lovebirds, his heart tightening. Though he did share with Mary the kind of intimate complicity he sought with a partner, in the end she wasn’t… he longed for a man, it was as simple as that.

It was everything but simple.

A light movement at the corner of his eye brought his attention back to Roger and Jo.

“…Hey Freddie.” Roger had a small voice but his signature large smile. “Everything’s alright?” He asked, his head raised in his direction.

It wasn’t the right moment confessing about his relationship… matters, not troubles. Not that he intended to talk about that with his friend, or anyone else. Weren’t things were going well with Mary?

“Oh- Yes, yes.” He forced a smile and sat down next to him on Jo’s towel. “I was just coming back from a walk and I saw you on the grill.”

Roger chuckled, and adjusted his sunglasses. “I’m hoarding sun for winter. We’ll see enough grey at home.”

“Don’t tell me about it.” He laid down on his stomach and rested his cheek on his crossed arms. “It’s so nice here. I wish I could take a big slice of sun and bring it back home.”

“Same! I’d hang it in my living room. It’s terribly dark.”

He would do the same, though it’d only bring out how cramped it was. “Oh Rog, with that hanging above your head you’d go completely blind. I wonder if it’s not the case already, given your miserable score at darts the other day…”

Roger’s well-drawn eyebrows frowned. “I was drunk!”

“With two beers? Sure darling.” Freddie showed a lopsided smile. “But maybe you’d like to try again…”

“Personally I’d like to sleep.” Jo announced with a tired voice, without moving an inch. “Nothing personal Freddie, but-” A yawn interrupted her sentence. “Please, if you two could settle this later…”

“Sorry love.” Roger whispered, caressing her side, before looking back at Freddie. His sunglasses couldn’t hide his determination. “Next time I’ll win.” He mouthed.

Freddie smiled further. “We’ll see about that.” He mouthed back, before closing his eyes and letting the warmth gently wrap itself around him.

**-***-**

In a flash, the ball bounced on the table and ended its race at the foot of a small bush planted nearby. Once again, John had been too slow to react. A triumphant smile bloomed on Freddie’s face as the bassist walked away to retrieve the ball.

“I believe that’s another victory for me darling. But you fought well!” He assured, pointing his paddle at him.

John scoffed. “’Don’t know if I deserve that kind of praise when I couldn’t win a single round.”

“Well-” He took a moment to stretch his arms. “I’m up for a replay, if you want.”

“No thanks, I’ll stop for now.”

He sat down on one of the stone benches located on each side of the table, and Freddie put back his paddle on the ping-pong table before sitting next to him. His smile faltered when he noticed John wasn’t smiling anymore, head lowered.

“Something’s wrong Deaky?”

“No, no, ‘s just…” He raised his head, frowning slightly. “Sometimes I’m really thinking about… stuff.”

“The day where we won’t be compared to Led Zeppelin anymore? How many shelves Brian is gonna fill with all his photo albums?”

A very light smile appeared on his face. “Not exactly. Rather…” He stayed silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on nowhere in particular. “Sometimes I think nothing’s changed, and then at times I really realise I’m gonna be a father.”

Freddie felt the same, honestly. Where was the quiet, reserved nineteen years old boy who had auditioned for a spot as Queen’s bassist four years ago? He had grown so much.

“Can you imagine? I mean I’ve known that for months obviously, but seeing Veronica again, seeing how Robbie grew, I… It just makes you realise “it’s coming!” and it’s just…” His lips tightened, and his hands clenched the edge of the bench. “…That’s not nothing.”

Freddie warp an arm around his shoulder. “Indeed darling. You’re the youngest and yet you’re the first to have a baby! I never thought you’d be the first to take the plunge. Though maybe we could’ve predicted that, with _Misfire_ …”

John sniggered, but then unease replaced his smile. “…Freddie, you think it’s gonna be okay? I mean, me and Ronnie and everything…”

Raising a child while being in a rock band, manage with their unstable current financial situation, all of this at twenty-four. Yes, having a baby this soon wasn’t planned – Freddie still remembered the apprehension in his eyes the day he had told the band about his girlfriend’s pregnancy – but it was John. Young, clever, resourceful.

He believed in him, and showed his most reassuring smile. “Deaky, I’m not saying it’ll be easy, taking care of a child is one of the hardest things in the world, but I completely trust you on this. Robbie or whatever his name will be, will have wonderful parents.”

Seeing his friend smile again warmed his heart. “Thanks Freddie. And… You too, you know.”

“Me what?”

“Well, you’ll be a great father too.” John assured, with more conviction in his eyes that Freddie had ever had about this subject. “It’s certain.”

His smile tensed. That was what Mary believed as well. What he would never… “Oh, I don’t know darling. I don’t think I’d have the patience for such a responsibility. I mean, I’m fussy and capricious and I don’t even know how to boil an egg! I’d be hopeless with a baby.”

John give him a gentle push in the arm. “Oh c’mon. I’m not saying you’re not a real diva sometimes, but… you’re kind, and you always think about others. It counts for something.”

“Thank you, but really dear, I don’t think that’s for me.” Freddie repeated, leaning backwards. “Besides, I already have my two babies at home!”

He chuckled. “I’m sure Tom and Jerry are lovely, but… don’t you want more than cats, one day?”

Yes, he wanted a _boyfriend_. Someone loving to share a home, a bed and raise a lot of cats with, in an ideal world. No room occupied by a human baby.

Guilt brutally engulfed him. Of course, his little dream – or maybe fairy tale was a more appropriate term, given dreams had a chance to come true – meant betraying Mary, disappointing his parents. Not that he wasn’t used to do the latter.

A warm hand laid on his arm. “I mean, I understand it scares you Freddie, but-”

Freddie cut the sentence with a gesture. It was very nice of John to want to reassure him in return, but he had quite enough of the subject. Even if of course, he couldn’t let it show.

“Eeeeh, dear, I don’t know, cats are everything you could want.” He assured, smiling and taking a more confident pose. “They are soft, they give you warmth, cuddles and they purr. And they meow! Babies just scream.” He grimaced exaggeratedly before looking back at his friend. “Deaky, tell me you’ll have a cat one day.”

He stayed pensive for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know Freddie. Maybe?”

“If that ever happens, tell me. I’d love to be the godfather.”

“I won’t fail to do so.” His smile was light but sincere.

**-***-**

To think they were already leaving the day after tomorrow. The week had passed before Roger had even had time to taste all the cocktails of the bar; fortunately, tonight was a good opportunity to fix this mistake. He had offered Jo to come with him, but a Scrabble game with Brian and Chrissie had forced her to stay in their room – soon enough that game would have travelled enough miles to equal Earth’s circumference.

The perspective of drinking without one of them saddened him a bit, but in his great kindness he was quick to fetch a cocktail for each of them. Without alcohol, to Jo's despair, but he promised he would buy her a Mojito before they left.

He had closed the door, and was about to start walking when a nearby door opening caught his attention. Turning his head, he watched Freddie close his room’s door, and freeze as their looks crossed.

“Hey…” His smile was tensed, and didn’t let go of the handle immediately.

“Something’s wrong?”

“I… I just have some trouble falling asleep.” Freddie confessed with shifty eyes.

Why would he even try to sleep now? It wasn’t late, which meant- “Great! I mean, that sucks, but you can come with me to the bar.” Roger offered, getting closer. “I’d like to taste all of their drinks before we leave.”

His brown eyes opened a bit wider. “…Not all of them tonight, I hope.”

“’F course not you prat! Besides I’m pretty sure they don’t put the correct amount of alcohol in any of them anyway.” He had around a dozen left to taste, but he’d split between tonight, tomorrow and tomorrow night. A perfect plan. “So, you coming with me? I’ll pay you one.” He added, as Freddie was hesitating. No one could say no to a free drink.

A little smile appeared on his face. “…Sure. There’s one I’ve been wanting to taste, the…” He frowned, then clicked his fingers a few times. “Fuck, I can’t find the name.”

“What does it look like?”

It was yellow. Bright yellow just like the inside of a mango. The slice of lemon perched on the side of the glass paled in comparison. Not very surprising, after all. Freddie loved yellow, even if it wasn’t the colour he wore the most. And it did smell wonderfully good, even if Roger couldn’t detect alcohol in it. It might be why he couldn’t remember tasting this one.

He grabbed the drink list to have confirmation. “The Mango Sunshine: mango, banana, pineapple, orange juice…” He read out loud as Freddie started to savour his cocktail. “There’s no alcohol in that!”

“Hmm. So?”

“Well… ‘Dunno. Cocktails with alcohol are always better. Like, a Vodka Tonic without vodka is just… lame.” Why he didn’t use his free drink opportunity to get something really nice with rum or another alcohol puzzled him.

Freddie raised a brow, and eyed the bright pink drink he had in his hand. “Reminds me what’s in that bubblegum drink of yours?”

“S’ called the Dazzling Rose! Lemonade, lime, grenadine, raspberries and _vodka_!” He added, flashing a bright, proud grin. “’S not a ‘chick drink’ like I’ve heard some say. Pink doesn’t mean shit. You should try it, it’s so good!”

“Dazzling Rose…” He muttered, pensive. “A bit like your trainers, in short.”

“…Oooh, right!” Roger had a pink, sparkly pair of Converse trainers he loved more than anything. “Yeah you’re right. I knew there was a reason why I loved this drink so much. Besides the vodka.”

“But…” He frowned. “That name… I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you drink this at least once.”

“Uh, yeah. ‘Never said I’d only taste new cocktails tonight.” Not having another Dazzling Rose would’ve been stupid. Saying it was ‘so good’ was a disservice. “This one’s a killer drink you know.”

“If you say so.” Freddie smiled, and went back to his own cocktail.

Round garden lamps giving a warm glow illuminated the bar space. Around them, two bar stools were occupied, and only one table amongst the ones positioned in circle around the hut where the bar was placed. A quiet ambience, perfect for a quiet conversation. Though Roger didn’t exactly know how to approach the subject, even if words were his forte. Would Freddie even be willing to talk about it?

…No, probably not. But trying couldn’t hurt, right?

“Freddie?”

His eyes went up, and he let go of his straw to smile. “Yes dear?”

Roger glanced at his left hand as he was searching for the right words; the black varnish was starting to wear off. Wouldn’t it be a bit dumb simply to ask…

“…How are you doing?”

His smile faltered a bit. Him blinking rapidly probably showed he was more confused than caught off-guard, but…

“I’m doing well. A bit tired, maybe, but well.” He straightened and smiled again. “…Why do you ask?”

‘… _Right.’_

Roger couldn’t say he believed him. He also realised he had much more questions Freddie would definitely not want to answer than intended.

“…Mary and you, ‘going well?” He tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible. “Two months without seeing her…”

It sounded better in his head. Freddie frowned, and he didn’t know if it was annoyance or simply suspicion in his dark eyes, but it was obvious he was trying to stick his nose where it didn’t belong anyway. Shit.

“Yes, we’re good. It was nice to spend time with each other again after so much time.”

“…Okay.”

He _believed_ him on that, but… fuck. He wasn’t saying Freddie and Mary were fighting or never talked to each other when no one was around, and he didn’t pretend to know all the details of their life as a couple, but Roger wasn’t blind, things weren’t going _that_ well between them. It was more than just a feeling. And since Freddie liked men, he…

…Was he even happy with Mary?

He chewed his straw. Bloody hell there was _no_ way he could just ask that without things going sour.

“Roger?”

His eyes snapped back to Freddie, whose face was showing a tinge of concern. Maybe… maybe he could make it seem like he wanted to talk about his own problems. But then what could he say? Certainly not things about Jo, anyone who had working eyes noticed they were very affectionate with each other.

“I…” Oh, what an idiot. ‘Better drop the subject entirely for now and shift to something lighter. He was good at that. “I’m gonna try another cocktail. And, since I’m very generous, I offer you another one!”

Surprise briefly flashed on Freddie’s face, before he showed a warm smile. “Thank you dear! What do you suggest then?” He asked as he took the drink list in hand.

“Well, there’s the Deep Quartz, with vodka and blueberries, their Bloody Mary is really good too and- oh you’d love the Sunset! Lemonade, pineapple, lime, orange juice, grenadine. And vodka, of course.”

“Alky.”

Said the man who would drink champagne at every meal if he could. “Hey, not my fault if vodka is in nearly all the best cocktails. If I say so, it can only be true.”

Freddie chuckled, and Roger felt better for making him smile. Talk with him about what was really going on with Mary didn’t seem possible for now, but maybe he could keep an eye out for later. If – or when? – their relationship would fall apart, Freddie would need a friendly presence more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vacation are over. Here comes the Japan tour! "Interesting" things will happen there 😉
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> A few things: 
> 
> \- I want to have this story grounded in a sense of reality, so I plan to follow a part of the original timeline, such as for example, the tours, and the recording of the albums. But I will take some liberties from canon - I mean obviously, as there's Froger in this story 😄. Not everything has been written, so I can't say for sure everything that'll be in there!
> 
> \- English isn't my first language, so even if I've checked for spelling mistakes and all, I might've overlooked things. Tell me if you see mistakes!
> 
> \- If you have informations or anecdotes about Queen in 1975 and 1976 (I don't know how far the story will go), or know where I could find some, don't hesitate to tell me! I've made researches with different sites and books but I don't know and I haven't found everything. More specifically, if you know if particular things related to Queen have happened in May and June 1975, I'm all ears!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated.


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